


The Innocent

by ChaosDragon (PlotWitch)



Series: Till Death Do We Part [4]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, a few instances of how not to handle firearms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-26
Updated: 2003-03-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 02:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19984477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotWitch/pseuds/ChaosDragon
Summary: The ghost of Raina is banished, leaving Anita to deal with the things she's done, and her broken spirit. But there's no rest for the wicked. Two monsters Anita has already met are back looking for her and in order to triumph over them she must depend on Edward like never before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written at least a few years after the first three, there is a definite improvement in style and writing. I have decided that this is the genuine birth of my own brand of writing evil. You will understand why when you get there. I'm so sorry. For, uh, all of it.

I was sitting in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee that I wasn’t drinking, trying really, really hard to look like I was busy. The way Nathaniel was staring at me from where he lay by the window in a patch of sunlight made me think it wasn’t working. He was smiling at me with a little grin and making funny faces. He wanted me to laugh.

I didn’t.

Finally he rolled to his feet with a predatorily grace and walked over to me. “Anita,” he said as he took my nearly full coffee out of my hand, “would you like me to get you some fresh coffee?”

I shrugged. It wouldn’t matter; it would get cold in my hands too.

It’d been three weeks since I’d gotten out of the hospital, Anna was still there, and it looked like she’d be coming home in another week or two. I’d healed completely from the surgery and other than that I was just spiffy. The days were bright, the nights were dark, and I was alive. What could be better than that?

More work. And maybe another dose of amnesia. That would have been really nice.

But I wasn’t so lucky.

I got to remember everything about the last year. Some of it I didn’t mind. But after Raina had begun controlling me more and more, overlapping my will with hers… I didn’t want to remember that. She’d… I’d killed people for money. And pleasure.

Yet another moral trampled to death beyond belief and resurrection.

I’d killed people, innocent people, and liked it. I’d killed two cops I knew, one of them well, and been giddy over it. And I’d killed a man I called friend. A man I’d have killed for. _Died_ for. Someone I was supposed to protect from the darker side of my life.

I felt my face thin out and go blank as I once again thought of what I’d done, and I looked at Nathaniel who’d sat down across from me heavily. Odd for him, he usually moved like a cat. Which wasn’t very odd considering he was a wereleopard. He was looking at me, lavender eyes soft through thick auburn lashes.

“What’s wrong with you, Anita?” he asked bluntly.

I just looked at him.

“You work all the time, do jobs you’d have quit over a few months ago, you don’t go see Anna unless we make you…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the coffee mug still in his hands and then back at me.

He was right. I’d been working almost nonstop. I was using it to forget. Like maybe if I could fill my time up with work and sleep, I’d forget what I’d done. Or at least be so tired I couldn’t remember it. Or think about it. It wasn’t working.

“You’re so pale, thin. When’s the last time you ate?”

I shrugged as I looked at my arms and wrists. They _were_ thin, almost bony. “I don’t know,” my voice empty and dead.

His face went still and then he frowned at me. Standing, he shoved the coffee on the table, spilling some of it. He went to the fridge and pulled out food. I don’t know what but the second I smelled it my stomach turned.

I stood and went to leave, but Nathaniel stopped me. “You have to eat, Anita. And you have to rest.”

“I know, Nathaniel,” I said. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

I turned and left the kitchen heading for my room. It was a safe place right now. There was nothing there to remind me of her, of Raina. I’d gotten rid of everything she’d touched, used, contaminated. It was safe.

I never made it there. As I passed Becca’s room, the room Edward had been sleeping in, I was surprised to hear voices. Not Edward’s and Becca’s. That was impossible. Becca was at school right now. Besides, it was Edward’s voice and another man’s, and his voice was vaguely familiar.

I slid up against the wall next to the door, curiosity wound low in my stomach for the first time in weeks, and I held my eye to the crack of the door. It was bad business, leaving the door cracked, but I guess Edward wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything drastic again. He hadn’t yelled at me about putting a stuffed animal down the sink, but he’d asked me not to do it again, and I knew he was angry about it because his voice had been low and sinister.

I could see Edward easily as I peeked in and I found I didn’t need to move my head very much to see the second figure in the room. I froze for a moment, mouth open, gaping at the man Edward had brought into my home.

It was Blue Suit looking very professional. The suit looked to be the same one he’d worn the first time I’d seen him but I barely registered that as I strained my ears to hear what was being said. The least I could do was see if they were planning bad things on people I knew.

“… by Van Cleef,” Blue Suit was saying.

Van Cleef? What did he have to do with anything? Last I heard was he was still in New Mexico. I imagine he was a little angry with Edward and me for wiping out most of his organization. At the thought of all the death I’d caused that night I grew a little numb, more empty, but I ignored it and listened to Edward.

His face was perfectly blank, like he was talking about the weather. Or maybe not, most people smiled or frowned over the weather. “Seven in the last month. They get more violent with each one.”

Blue Suit nodded saying, “I would imagine so. What does he hope to gain by threatening the Executioner? Surely he knows she would kill him with a song in her heart.”

My heart sped up as he said that. His face was so matter of fact, like he knew for sure that it was true. And for a moment pure fear ran through my veins. Was it true? Could I still kill as easily and happily as I used to? I hadn’t handled any weapons since the night I’d… cleaned the skeletons out of my closet. So I wouldn’t find out. I hoped.

I watched Edward’s face and I saw something move behind his eyes. Maybe an acknowledgment that I wasn’t a killer anymore. But when he spoke his voice betrayed nothing. “Anita will do exactly what she feels necessary.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that.

I didn’t have a clue.

But somehow, I wasn’t bothered by it. I couldn’t be bothered by it anymore; once upon a time I’d done exactly that. Doing it was what I’d done best, now it was what scared me the most. Even knowing that Van Cleef was threatening me was small in comparison. But at least it was only threats, though it struck me that a man like Van Cleef wouldn’t waste time on threats. He’d move in and take the targets out.

Or maybe he was truly scared of Edward and me the way I was scared of myself. Maybe we’d frightened him enough, done enough killing, to make him think twice about coming up against us. It was kind of like when Edward and I were still at the point where we might have drew down on each other: I knew he was dangerous, I didn’t want to push the line because I was scared that he would be the last person I ever saw.

That wasn’t the case anymore, though. Even after we’d married, even when it had been Raina and not me, Edward wouldn’t have drawn down on me unless he had no other choice. We’d never talked about it, but I knew it, just like he knew I would have killed him without batting an eye if only he’d given me reason.

And now he wouldn’t draw down on me because chances were, I’d just sit there and let him shoot me. And if I didn’t sit there, I wouldn’t do much more than duck and run.

Blue Suit shifted in his seat producing a manila envelope from his jacket. He was going to offer Edward a hit. I couldn’t believe it; Edward was doing business in my house, in Becca’s room, like there was nothing wrong with the murder of innocent people.

Blue Suit handed the envelope to Edward and Edward opened it. He skimmed the paper he pulled out, only one, and frowned as he looked back up. “The deal was I would pay you to provide me with information I don’t know. I want to know where he is and what he’s doing.”

The curiosity that had faded into fear as Edward and Blue Suit talked about my moral downfall now sparked back into a tiny flame. Edward was paying Blue Suit for information on someone, some man, not being paid to kill someone. It was a very curious situation.

“He appears to have disappeared. We have every resource on locating him, even our… associates with the government, but Mr. Gundersson seems to have vanished completely.” A pale manicured hand brushed the lapel of his navy suit before he continued. “We do understand the agreement, we’ll notify you when we have more on him.”

Gundersson. Olaf. Oh, god, Edward was looking for Olaf. I scarcely bothered wondering why before I pushed the door open and stumbled into the room. Edward turned and blinked at me, Blue Suit looked a little startled but smiled.

I let the first hint of true emotion I’d felt in weeks color my voice.

“Edward, what the hell is going on?”


	2. Chapter 2

Edward just sat there silently, his face utterly blank to the point where I wondered if his face hurt from being so void of emotion. I couldn’t read him, and I didn’t like that. Blue Suit took the opportunity to stand up. He extended his hand and said, “Good to see you again, Ms. Blake.”

I glanced at him and nodded. I didn’t shake his hand. I didn’t want to touch him. He got the hint and took his hand back but didn’t sit down. I wondered for a moment if he was armed but I trusted Edward to keep me safe if something happened. He knew I never touched any weapons anymore, not even so much as a kitchen knife.

“Well?” I said to Edward, my eyes hard and a little afraid.

I knew he could see the fear, I wanted him to see it, because maybe if he knew I was scared he’d tell me the truth. Or maybe he’d be his usual self and play his cards so close to his chest that I got killed. I was actually wondering which one was better. But it wasn’t my choice. It was Edward’s.

He blinked at me again. “How much did you hear?”

Practical. Very practical. He wasn’t going to tell me more than he had to.

“Van Cleef is threatening me and Olaf is nowhere to be found.”

Edward nodded and Blue Suit cleared his throat. “I’ll be leaving, but I’ll be in touch.”

Blue Suit left, I assume to find his own way out, and I sat down in the chair he’d kept warm for me. Edward was on Becca’s little bed, his cot was nowhere to be seen, and he stretched out as soon as we were alone. All business until it was me. I was just the wife.

I nearly laughed at the thought but the sound that came out was a bitter choke. I’d always thought I’d marry someone like Richard, but then, I thought I wouldn’t get married ever. And now I was married to Edward.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Edward stared at me and as he did his face melted into a more familiar blankness. It was the one that said I’m worried, but I’ll do the job no matter what. It was the same face he’d worn when he been my bodyguard years ago. But it didn’t make me feel better.

“Why are you looking for Olaf?”

He smiled. “What’s the best way to get rid of a threat, Anita?”

The anger drained out of me and was replaced with the numbness I’d become so used to.

“Eliminate them, kill them.” My answer was soft and strained. I knew it, I didn’t want to, but I did.

Then Edward seemed to ease off a bit. He started telling me the truth, or as much of it was truth as I could tell.

“Van Cleef has been sending threats for five weeks, he says he wants you dead and he’ll do it himself. He thinks that killing you will make me slip up, give him a chance to kill me, probably because we’re married now.” Edward smiled and it was cold. “He has no clue that it’s a fake and our child is a bloodsucker’s.”

I didn’t flinch but for a moment I think I wanted to. I knew a different truth about Anna. I knew the real truth. She was Edward’s, his own flesh and blood. But I hadn’t told him. And I wasn’t planning to. Not to save me the trouble of it but more to save him the trouble of knowing he has another kid. Couldn’t let him develop a conscience.

I met his eyes and my gaze was unwavering and empty. “What about Olaf?”

He smiled at me. It was his secret little smile, the one he used when he knew something I didn’t. Normally it would have bugged the hell out of me but now it didn’t faze me.

“Olaf and I never had our little talk,” was all he said.

The little talk was from when we’d worked with Ted Forrester on a case in Santa Fe and Albuquerque a year and a half ago. Olaf hadn’t liked Edward bringing me in on the case and he’d made arrangements to have a talk with Edward once the bad monster was dead.

A talk would have been fine, even if they were talking aver my usefulness in the case, but the talk was supposed to be Olaf trying to kill Edward. I can’t imagine why he was so upset with me being on the case, but it takes all kinds I guess.

I shrugged at Edward and leaned back in the chair. He was still lying on the bed stretched out comfortably and then he sat up quickly, fluidly. It would have impressed the hell out of me if I hadn’t been sitting with Nathaniel the lycanthrope not too long ago.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw he had his gun in hand and for a moment I thought that I’d lost my usefulness to him, and then Edward held it up and looked from it to me and back at it. Then he looked back at me and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. I would have said pain, but he was fine.

His eyes slid back to their usual wintry distance and he smiled at me. “Not too long ago you would have had your gun out and on me if I’d pulled mine.”

He sat the gun down on the floor in front of him between his feet and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He looked at me intensely. “Now you just sit there with fear in your eyes wondering if this is it, if I’m going to kill you.”

I didn’t answer. My heart had never sped up, not even when I thought he was going to shoot me, and I knew that something was wrong with me. I’d known this for a while, and this was just another confirmation. I smiled unhappily at Edward and then it faded from my face. No matter, it had never reached my eyes.

“You can’t just sit around being depressed all the time, Anita.” His voice was soft and he sounded a little confused. “You haven’t done anything wrong, anything to make you like this.”

I laughed harshly and he looked away from my eyes. “I haven’t done anything wrong, Edward? I killed people, killed them for money. Maybe that’s fine for you to do,” and he looked back up at me, “but that’s not how I can do it.”

He shrugged though I knew throwing his killing for money in his face hurt him a bit and then said, “It’s not like it was you.”

I had my mouth open to make some comeback, like I used to do, and stopped as I registered what he’d said. It hadn’t been me? Really? Then someone had pulled the blindfold over my eyes because somehow, I was the only one who knew who had been doing what.

I knew the difference between Raina pulling the trigger and me pulling it. Technically I had, but Raina had been in control. But I’d still been in there, hiding behind her monstrosity, and while I’d felt what she felt… Well, I’d also felt what I felt. And I knew the difference.

Yes, Raina had liked, loved it, thrilled over it. I remembered that much, and it had sickened me. But I knew what I felt too, and I’d felt the same way. I’d never let go and killed for the thrill of it. I’d always hidden that part of me away from myself because I couldn’t live with it.

I’d tucked it safely away so deeply that I hadn’t even known it was there until Raina came along and now it was out, and I couldn’t put it back. I couldn’t be what I was, I couldn’t even live with what I was now.

I just looked at Edward and I knew my eyes were empty, my face blank, and it was as good as he gave. I had no answer to give, no defense for myself, because it had been me.

Edward shook his head at me and then, before I could react, he’d picked his gun up and tossed it to me. My hands were spread out automatically and I caught it, the weight resting clumsily in my hands. I looked at the gun for a long moment before breathing again and I dropped it to the floor, careful that it wouldn’t go off as it fell.

I looked up and Edward was looking at me blankly. I knew he was disappointed but at that moment I didn’t care. All I could think of was how holding that gun had made me feel, and the thrill of it made me sick and sad. I was a killer; there was no hiding from it. But I didn’t have to kill anymore.

I looked into Edward’s eyes, two pale blue chips of ice, and I whispered, “I can’t do that, be that, anymore.”

I stood up and walked out of the room never once looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

I hadn’t talked to Edward since yesterday after he pulled his little let’s throw Anita a gun stunt and truthfully, I didn’t want to talk to him for a while. To the point where I’d gone to the hospital with Nathaniel to see Anna. Not to say I didn’t want to see her, I just… okay, so I didn’t want to see her. But it had nothing to do with her, honestly, it was me. I didn’t really want to see anyone.

She’d been asleep, as usual, but Nathaniel had watched her sleep for over an hour. Then he’d insisted on eating in the hospital cafeteria, whose food was only minimally better than the actual hospital food, and that was when I began to feel nervous.

I took a quick glance around the cafeteria. It wasn’t very crowded and most of the people who were there were doctors and nurses and a few bereaved family members. But my eyes lit on something that just didn’t seem right: three men sitting in the far corner dressed in black suits. It wasn’t what they were wearing, not even the sunglasses, but more of the fact they were staring right at Nathaniel and me.

They turned away when I saw them, and I knew something was up. I tapped Nathaniel’s shoulder and he glanced up at me, lavender eyes wide as he saw the fear and panic on my face.

“We need to leave. Now,” I said to him urgently. I had no idea what to do other than to leave, I was that panicked and scared.

Nathaniel sat up a little straighter and nodded almost imperceptibly. He glanced around the room casually as he stood, looking for what had frightened me. I watched as his gaze swept past the table with the three men and then he was looking back at me saying softly, “Stay here for two minutes then come out front. I’ll be waiting with the jeep and we’ll get out of here.”

I nodded back, no expression on my face and Nathaniel stood up slowly and left. I watched as three heads turned slightly to follow him and then I looked back at the table so I wouldn’t see them look back at me. Me who was now all alone.

I waited patiently, or as patiently as I was capable of while my heart threatened to jump out of my throat, and when the two minutes had passed I stood and quickly headed for the door. I was to the main entrance of the hospital, Nathaniel and the jeep in sight when I heard the men behind me.

I turned to look, and they were so close to me I let out a muffled shriek and ran through the glass doors that led out into the sweltering St. Louis heat. Nathaniel had the passenger door open and for once I was utterly thankful that Edward had made him learn to drive. If I recall he’d said, “If any furball is going to live with you he’s going to at least learn to drive.” Of course I think that may have had something to do with the fact neither of us was ever home to take Becca to her dance lessons.

I jumped in the car and we pulled away just as one of the men smacked his hand, no, his fist into the window next to my head. The glass cracked but didn’t shatter and I screamed and ducked. I was so not good with the violence thing anymore. We peeled away from the curb and the men and I sat up, looking out the rear window.

A black car had squealed up to them and they were quickly piling in. Nathaniel pressed the gas and I felt the jeep surge forward, but the black car had followed us and they had no trouble keeping up. They were still gaining on us, the front tires coming alongside the bumper, then the back tires, then they were even, and they swerved into us.

Nathaniel pulled the wheel sharply against the push we’d been given and then he straightened out. I watched as the men in black pulled up again and they swerved, again. This time the jeep was forced over the curb, but Nathaniel veered back onto the road. The third time the men hit us we swerved back onto the curb, and before he could steer us off there was a deafening crash and I was jerked hard against the seatbelt.

My vision blacked out for a moment and as quickly it came back. I could smell gas and smoke and blood. Not my favorite combination. I looked up and I was alone in the jeep, the driver’s seatbelt was hanging loosely from its hook. Nathaniel hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt.

I fought the urge to scream as I crawled out of the jeep though the driver side door and I saw the tail end of the black car disappear around a corner several blocks ahead. There were people, too, that I saw, and they were crowded around something that was crumpled in front of them.

I walked over, a little unsteady on my feet, and pushed through the crowd. The crumpled thing was Nathaniel’s body. Yes, body, there would be no miraculous healing for the wereleopard. My throat became thick with tears as I looked at him, his now pale lavender eyes glazed over and staring at nothing.

He’d been thrown from the jeep and he’d landed on a fence, one of those old-fashioned wrought iron fences with the pointy little spiraled things on them. There was a neat line of them sticking out of him from his throat to his stomach, all of them painted a slick red with Nathaniel’s blood. I fell to my knees and fought the urge to throw up.

I won and when the EMT’s arrived I was only feeling numb and empty, there was no more pain. They took me to the hospital and treated me for a gash on my forehead. I didn’t know how I’d gotten it, I didn’t care. It didn’t need any stitches, they put some butterfly closures on it and then a little gauze taped over. They let me out of the little curtained room just in time to see Edward rush into the emergency entrance, his over shirt flapping back and letting everyone see his gun. No one went near him.

He saw me right away and when he reached me his face was blank, as always. I wanted to scream at him but I as quickly as the urge came it left. Edward stopped in front of me and his eyes shifted to the bandage on my forehead. With a gentle hand he touched it and then he looked back at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded but I didn’t mean it. Nathaniel was dead because of me. It wasn’t fair. Edward said nothing more as we walked out to his car. He’d driven the Hummer up from New Mexico not long after his first marriage, and the thought of him being married twice nearly made me laugh.

We got home and Edward walked with me to the door. I unlocked it but before I could open it Edward placed his hand over mine.

“I know this is really bad timing but I, we got you a surprise. Me and Becca.”

He sounded so unsure that I smiled. It may not have reached my eyes, but it was the best I could do.

“It was more Becca’s idea than mine, she missed Peeka and Boo. And it was her idea to name him,” Edward said quickly as I turned the knob.

I had the rough idea that it was a dog, Edward and Becca had bought a dog. It couldn’t be anything else, not with the reference to the two Maltese dogs that Becca had had when she’d still lived in New Mexico. And I was right. The moment I opened the door and a black and white blur rushed out and onto me. I was knocked to the ground and then my face was smothered in doggie kisses.

I was completely disgusted.

And I was utterly delighted, I was surprised to find as my hands came up and scratched the Dalmatian’s head just behind his, yes, his ears. Trust Edward to get a boy. The dog gave a contented woof and settled his head into my chest as I scratched away. I looked up at Edward smiling softly.

“I’ve never had a dog before,” I said.

Smart, sophisticated, naw, but it was the truth. My idea of a pet was fish, which I had, once. But that was when all I had was an apartment and my life was so dangerous, I worried about my neighbors going down in a firefight because of me. I’d had too many close calls at home when I’d had an apartment. Not to say I hadn’t had them in my house but that was different, I had no close neighbors.

Edward slid his Ted face on and smiled at me and Becca came to the door calling, “Sigmund, Sigmund! Here boy, come here!”

Sigmund? They’d named the dog Sigmund? That was really, really morbid, I decided as I remembered a different Sigmund and how he’d coughed fluff up the drain as I sent him to penguin heaven through the garbage disposal. I glanced at Edward and he was still wearing his Ted face, but the eyes were his own.

“I trust you won’t put this Sigmund down the garbage disposal,” he said, eyes sparkling with humor. Trust Edward to know exactly what I’d been thinking.

I shrugged, going for the devil may care type attitude. But I knew this was one thing I wouldn’t kill, no matter how violent my life was. Because dogs can be trained, and trained this one would be, to run away from strangers. Far, far away.

Becca smiled at me and walked over slowly, almost shyly, one handheld behind her back. “Mrs. Pringle said to tell you to be more careful with Sigmund,” she said as she extended the hidden hand.

In it was Sigmund the stuffed penguin, a little worse for the wear, covered in black and white stitching. It was color coordinated and you could only see it if you looked very closely. Mrs. Pringle had outdone herself. I hadn’t even known she could sew. I made a mental note to thank her soon, courtesy required it, and I took the stuffed animal from Becca, vowing silently to keep it hidden until I could look at it without remembering Raina and her… idea of fun.

I smiled blankly at Becca and stood up slowly. “Thank you, sweetheart,” I said as I took her hand and led her back into the house leaving Edward to deal with the rambunctious dog.

I hadn’t exactly thought about my life in futuristic terms in a while. I’d been mostly concentrating on my past, and Raina’s. But now I thought for the first time in weeks on how complicated could my life possibly become?

I got no answer to my thought but then, I didn’t really expect one.


	4. Chapter 4

I was in a shooting range. It was less than two days after Nathaniel’s death, and I was in a place where people practiced shooting targets to make sure they could kill things. I so did not want to be here, but I didn’t let my face show it. It wasn’t too hard, actually. I was staying pretty blank faced lately anyway.

The range was empty except for me and Edward, who was sitting in front of our lane watching me watch him. I had the feeling he knew what was going on in my head, but I didn’t care. He was allowed to know if he did. It wouldn’t matter. No matter how easily Edward knew something, someone, he rarely, if ever, understood it. He was like that. He knew someone would do something or think a certain way, but he didn’t understand why. Why had never been high on his list.

We’d been there for maybe fifteen minutes, Edward had already declined the offered gun rental, and he had a large gym bag at his feet with odd little shapes poking out of it. I wasn’t exactly sure why he’d brought me here. If it was to play with guns he was out of luck. I’d gotten rid of the Browning. Really rid of it because it had been gone from the yard when I’d gone to get it and throw it in the garbage.

And if he expected me to use his Beretta he was just screwed. One, the gun was just too big in my hands. Two, I wasn’t much for playing with guns today. Or ever, as far as I was concerned.

No sooner had I thought it than Edward slipped his gun out into his hand.

“I can’t use your gun,” was all I said. No more than that, he should already know I didn’t want to be here.

He nodded as he laid the Beretta next to the bag. “You won’t need to,” he said as he unzipped it. Then he started pulling out guns and knives. _My_ guns and knives, I realized with a small shock. All of them had been cleaned, oiled, polished, and sharpened within an inch of their lives.

He picked up the Browning and handed it to me. I took it and held it in my hand very carefully like someone who’d never handled a gun before. I looked at Edward, into his eyes, and something slid through them, behind the pale blue. Then he stood, gun quickly in hand, and went to work at the target he’d sent down the lane when we’d gotten there.

He went through his first clip slowly, warming up, and three more followed, each getting faster and faster until he finished and the Beretta went back into its holster. He turned to me and I looked away, down at the Browning. I heard him bring his target in and listened as he sent another one out.

There was silence for a minute and then I looked up. “I can’t do this, Edward,” I said.

I knew that I’d lost my edge, lost what made me good at my job. I could just feel it. It should have worried me, knowing that I’d lost what had kept me alive for the past six years. Hell, it should have scared me. But it didn’t. Right now my fear was riding high on the knowledge that just holding the Browning in my hands thrilled me, made me damned near delirious with delight.

Edward looked back at me steadily at his blankest and said, “Try.”

So I did. I got into a two-handed stance and raised the Browning. I emptied the clip very slowly, carefully aiming at the target, barely hitting it. I looked down at the target with its little holes on the edges and shook my head, turning back to Edward.

“I can’t do this,” I said, handing the gun to him.

He took it and looked at for a moment. Then he handed it back to me, deftly dropping the clip and sliding another one in before it reached my hands. “Again,” he said.

So I did it again with no change. I slipped the empty clip out and lay both the clip and gun onto the bag of other weapons. I looked at them then at Edward. “I don’t want them,” and I gestured to the bag.

“You need them.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice very sure. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out a cross. My cross. The one I had thrown out of my window with everything else. Well, at least Grandma Blake would stop rolling over in her grave.

He held it out to me and I shook my head. He waited for me to explain and I struggled with what to say, how to put it so that he would understand. He who doesn’t understand anything. He wanted to know, I could see it in his eyes, I knew because he was silent. He was waiting for my explanation, waiting for me to tell him what he didn’t know, couldn’t know, because he wanted to know.

I thought for a long time, watching the cross glimmer and shine in his hand. Then I said, “I don’t have any faith anymore,” and it was true.

I had no more faith.

Not in that cross, not in my religion, my God.

Not in my guns, or my instinct.

Not in Edward.

And not in myself.

Never in myself.

Edward looked at me and smiled softly. “Everyone has faith, Anita. Sometimes they just have to figure out what it’s in.”

He let the cross slide through his fingers, holding it by the chain, until the clasp was caught. He undid it slowly and then looked at me. I stared blankly back and didn’t move as he took a step forward and slid it around my neck. I felt him do the clasp back together as I looked into his eyes and then he slowly slipped his hands away from me, his fingers lightly trailing along my neck.

He watched me quietly as I looked down and fingered the cross.

“Everyone?” I asked very, very softly.

“Even me,” he said just as quiet with a touch of dark humor in his voice.

I looked up at him, face blank, and asked him, “What do _you_ have faith in?” My voice was calm and neutral, about the way I was feeling.

He looked at me oddly and then smiled. “You. Now try again.”

I stooped and grabbed the Browning off the top of the open gym bag and Edward handed me a full clip. I took it and slammed it home, clicking off the safety. Then I went to it.

I quickly emptied the clip and Edward pressed the button to bring the target in. The results were good, almost as good as Edward’s, and inside I was cringing.

I turned to look at Edward and he was smiling.

“See?” he said, holding the target up with a very pleased expression on his face.

I nodded. “I see,” I said, when I didn’t see at all. I’d killed the target, yes, and that was good to Edward. To me it was awful because deep down inside of me was a little voice telling me how much better it would be to kill something that bled, something that screamed.

“You can’t not survive, Anita. It’s what you do.” He was firm in that, he had always seen me survive and I guess this was his way of making me see that no matter what I would always want to survive, make sure I survived. This was his way of making me see that sitting around and waiting to be killed was not what I wanted to do.

But I wasn’t so sure. Was surviving worth it if I had to kill people to stay alive? Maybe more innocent people? Or what if I survived and killed them because I liked it. I wasn’t sure which thought was worse.

So I shrugged at Edward and said, “Not anymore.”

Edward looked at me slowly, then to the Browning which was held loosely in my right hand, and then at the target I’d just shot at. He shook his head at me.

“Yes, you do.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been five days of hell since Edward had taken me to the shooting range. The first time. He’d taken me back twice since and both times I’d had to fight the urge to shoot him in the leg. Or the knee cap. That’d hurt more. But that was not why it had been five days of hell.

Sigmund the Dalmatian was a chewer. Of all things leather, from my shoes to Edward’s holsters. He wasn’t too pleased with that and had asked me if I would mind if he gave the dog away. I’d looked at him and then smiled, very nicely, sweetly, and told him I liked Sigmund.

I could live with chewed shoes and doggie slobber kisses if it irritated Edward. He deserved it. Of course I could change my mind, I thought for a moment as I closed the front door behind me and walked into the living room. I could really change my mind.

The living room wasn’t a mess, contrary to what I’d expected from the dog’s expression when I came in, but what he had done had ruined one of my favorite decorations: the swan skin. Also known as Kaspar Gundersson. Sigmund had gotten it off the wall and managed to rip the back off of the frame it was on, not breaking or even cracking the glass. Whereas Kaspar had just been dead before, now he was in a million and one pieces on my living room floor. Or at least his skin.

I was not a happy pet owner.

“Sigmund!” I said as I turned to look at the animal. I’d swear he smiled at me and then he trotted off to do more mayhem, I expect. A moment later Edward appeared in the kitchen doorway. He’d been home when this had happened, why was I not surprised?

He looked around the room and then his eyes finally found the carnage by the couch. He smiled and then looked at me. I didn’t like the smile. It was his cat that ate the canary smile.

“Why are you smiling, Edward?”

“Now you know how I felt.”

Oh, it was gloating because the damned dog had eaten his holster and I’d said it stayed. Very mature. For once I was feeling somewhat like my usual sarcastic self. It felt good, but I was still not a happy person. Not only was I having problems dealing with my life, or my past might be a better way to put it, but Edward had pretty much confirmed that Van Cleef was responsible for Nathaniel’s death.

That I’d found out from Blue Suit’s second visit. That I knew about, at least. And Van Cleef was still out there looking for me. I wasn’t too hard to find, actually, I hadn’t gone into hiding or anything. I’d told Edward that I wouldn’t, flat out refused to, and Edward had said he’d take precautions. I had no clue what that meant but I was beginning to think I had a shadow. Which meant Edward had someone following me.

Then on Blue Suit’s third visit, the day after Edward took me to the range, the day after he confirmed Van Cleef’s appearance in St. Louis, he’d given Edward what he’d paid for. They’d found Olaf. Oh joy in the morning. Or afternoon, however the case may be, and it was afternoon now.

I flicked Edward off and walked past him into the kitchen. We were alone, Becca was at the Circus where she went every day after school. Edward followed, his eyes not so gleeful as when he’d gloated. I knew something was wrong and asked.

“Olaf is in St. Louis.”

“Again?” I asked. I should have been frightened, worried, hell, I should have been anything. But the numbness had just settled over me again. It made me feel strange and lightheaded.

Edward nodded. “He says he wants you. I have a plan, but I’ll need your help.”

Edward had a plan. That was good. That was very good. Plans were things that were good.

Edward needed my help. That wasn’t so good. I was not good help with violence anymore. No, no, violence and I just did not mix.

But what was worse? Breaking myself more? Or helping Edward? I was already broken beyond repair, last time I checked, so what difference would it make? The only problem would be that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill Olaf in cold blood or otherwise.

Then Edward said softly, “He wants you. And Becca. And Anna.”

My blood ran cold through my veins. “Olaf threatened the girls?” I knew my voice was hard, more businesslike, more like the old me, and a thrill of fear ran through the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t kill to protect me, but I’d sure as hell try to kill him to protect my daughters.

I looked at Edward and his eyes were cold, but not empty. He was angry and afraid for the girls. I knew Anna was safe, she was still in the hospital, not due home for another two weeks or so, and Becca was at the Circus. Jean-Claude would protect her, Edward and I knew that. But what if…?

There was always a small chance that he’d get them. And I couldn’t let that happen because I was afraid of myself.

“He can’t have them,” I said, knowing that it was what Edward wanted to hear. I meant it, I did, but I didn’t know if I could carry it out.

Edward looked at me for a long moment and would have said something, I think, if it hadn’t been for Sigmund. He raced into the kitchen and slid across the tiles into Edward, knocking him down. Edward fell and looked at Sigmund, who was now on top of him, bewildered, and I started laughing.

It was just too funny, and I laughed until it hurt. It felt good. I was feeling something, and it felt good. Edward looked up at me and his face cracked into a smile, and then he started laughing too. I knelt beside both of them and hugged Sigmund who immediately scrambled to his feet on top of Edward. He groaned as Sigmund’s claws dug into him and I grinned at him.

“First thing tomorrow, we trim his nails,” he said, and I chuckled.

Edward looked at me and reached up and scratched the dog’s head behind its ears and then touched my cheek. I looked at him curiously. He shook his head and stood up, Sigmund tumbling a little off of him as he did. I gave the dog one more pat and then joined Edward among the land of the two legged.

“We’re going to make you a target, Anita,” he said, and my smile faded. We were back to the plan.

“What’s up, Edward?” I asked bluntly.

Edward turned away from me and headed for the door. “He wants you, Anita, we’re going to give him a chance at you.”

I nodded firmly while inside my heart was pounding with fear. It was a decent plan, it could work. Edward knew Olaf and if he thought it would work then it would. I believed in him, I trusted him.

“Go get dressed, Anita, we’re going dancing.” Then he left.

Dancing. Me, maybe I could dance. But Edward? The thought was absurd. That was a good word for it. But I had no doubt that Edward could do it. He was a very good actor. So I went to get dressed.

I took a quick shower making sure to wash my hair. I was worried there might still be blood in it from work; I’d gone straight from six raisings last night to the office and had consultations all day. I dried off and stood in front of the mirror, a small pale woman wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Funny, I didn’t look any different than I had a month ago, except for the fact that I was no longer as big as a house with a baby.

I smiled at my reflection and then brushed my hair. Some hair goop and it was done. It would dry to curls, exactly what I wanted it to do. If I was going to help set Olaf up by being a happy little wife out dancing with the husband, the least I could do was look the part.

I walked into my bedroom and took a deep breath, throwing the closet open. I knew what I was going to wear. A little black number Ronnie had given me to wear on a night out with ‘Ted.’ I’d never thought I’d wear it, but funny things happen, I thought as slid it on over the black satin panties and bra I’d put on before leaving the bathroom.

Black heels followed, higher than I liked, but they went with dress according to Ronnie and who was I to question her taste? I wasn’t wearing hose, I figured why bother, they’d probably just get ruined tonight. One more thing and I’d be ready.

I pulled a bag out of my closet from where Edward had thrown it on the floor. The gym bag with all my weapons. I unzipped it and passed over the guns in favor of a knife. I didn’t know if I could use it, but I’d feel better with one on me, just in case Edward wasn’t good enough.

I didn’t strap the knife to my wrist; I held it in my hand, naked and gleaming. If I put it on my wrist, I’d have to wear a jacket. Tonight’s mission was to be enticing bait, not to cover up. I rummaged through the bag and pulled out the set of throwing knives I’d gotten when Raina was inside me. I knew them, they were familiar in my hand. I put the larger silver blade back and unsheathed one of the little knives.

It was as long as my hand and well balanced, the hilt smooth and light in my palm. Yes, this would be what I carried. I slid it into the small black purse I carried and I was ready. Or as ready as I could be. I went to meet Edward.

He was sitting in the living room, now clean of white swan skin and feathers, and Sigmund the Dalmatian was lying on the couch next to him, head on his lap. Edward was absently stroking his head and I smiled as I watched. It wasn’t exactly a new sight to me, a human Edward, but I didn’t get to see it enough. It used to make me uncomfortable to think of Death as a mere mortal but lately I’d been hoping he was, so that he could see what I was going through and maybe not push me so hard.

A low whistle brought me back to the present and Edward was looking up at me with his Ted face. Only the eyes gave him away, and I smiled.

“Well?” I said.

Edward nodded. “You look… nice,” he said slowly. He’d changed what he was going to say. He wasn’t going to say nice, but I didn’t ask him what he was going to say. Instead I held a hand out to him.

He took it and stood slowly. “Ready?” he asked.

I smiled a little at his choice of words. Silently I nodded. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. But we’d find out soon enough.


	6. Chapter 6

The night was, so far, uneventful in the Olaf department and I can’t say I wasn’t grateful for it. But in all other areas it was a night of extreme and total weirdness. I was supposed to be the happy little wife, out dancing with her adoring husband, and I think just be happy. But since when do things go as planned?

Not to say that Edward and I didn’t look like the happy little couple. We looked the part exactly. The problem was I was slipping into it too easily. Once upon a time Edward had been my mirror, almost just a tool for me, but here he was, undeniably human, and… And I don’t know.

I blame it on the black jeans he was wearing. No normal human male should wear jeans like that, it’s not healthy for women who are currently celibate.

But I think it had more to do with the fact that despite his alertness and his ever ready Beretta, he was being himself. Ted Forrester was nowhere to be seen; the lazy smiles and Texas drawl were buried and maybe dead to him until he needed them. He didn’t with me, I preferred Edward to Ted. But sometimes Edward can be just as discomfiting as Ted.

We’d had dinner at a spiffy little Italian restaurant just outside of the District and then he’d dragged me to Danse Macabre, almost literally. He said that normal couples danced. I was inclined to call him a liar but the idea of seeing Edward dance was too intriguing. I still didn’t believe he could.

He did dance, and dance he did well. I was surprised and for once, I know it showed on my face. It made Edward smile. And then he just grabbed me and twirled me around. I do not twirl. At least I thought I didn’t. Edward twirled me fairly easily. I was half tempted to ask him where he’d learned to dance but I decided that I didn’t want to know, it was probably something very bad anyway.

It was probably close to midnight when the club made a decided change of pace in the music and began playing slower things. I went to sit down, I was exhausted from all of the dancing, Edward hadn’t let me take many breaks and I was ready to fall down where I stood. My arm was around Edward’s waist as we walked towards our table and suddenly I felt Edward tense.

I would never have noticed except for the fact we were walking so close together, and then his arm slid around me a little tighter and he pulled me into him. “Edward?” I asked softly, not knowing what the hell was going on.

He kept me tight against his body and pulled me back out to the middle of the dance floor so that we were surrounded by dancing couples. I looked up and that’s when I saw his eyes. They were winter pale and as empty as they’d ever been. My heart froze for one painstaking moment and then I followed his gaze.

“Olaf,” he whispered as I thought the word, the name.

Olaf was standing on the edge of the crowd watching us. I knew that he couldn’t tell I saw him, but he knew Edward did, and he was smiling at Edward evilly. There was no other word, it was an evil smile. I think it was something along the lines of his little vendetta with Edward about bringing me in on the Santa Fe job. That and the fact he was probably looking forward to butchering me.

Edward glared back and wrapped both his arms around my waist possessively. Then he looked at me and smiled, a real smile, for Olaf’s benefit I think. Or maybe that was when he pulled me closer and started us swaying to the music. I might have laughed at the thought of me and Edward dancing, slow dancing mind you, if it wasn’t for the fact that every few steps took us farther away from the protected dance floor and to the back entrance.

I didn’t stop to wonder how or why Edward knew about it as he pulled me through and then we were in the alley between Danse Macabre and the neighboring warehouse. It was dark, damp, and deserted. A triple threat. I laughed nervously at my own joke and Edward looked at me strangely. I realized that I hadn’t told him the joke. I wouldn’t, it wasn’t very funny.

Edward let go of me and backed away and I pushed down the urge to reach out for him. Alone was not something I wanted to be right now. I shuddered as I looked at the end of the alley where it stopped abruptly with a brick wall. There was no way out except forward and for some reason I had the feeling that that was not a feasible escape.

I was right. Olaf appeared as though conjured at the entrance and Edward stepped in front of me as Olaf walked towards us.

“I did not expect you to use your precious Executioner this way,” Olaf said deeply as he stared at Edward. He ignored me completely. I was thankful.

Edward glanced at me and I barely had time to register the look of shock in his face as Olaf threw something at him. It hit him in the back of his head, and he went down. Hard. He didn’t get back up. I stepped back and Olaf stepped towards me. I kept moving back and he kept moving forward and then I couldn’t go back anymore.

Olaf had backed me into the alley’s dead end.

I panicked and drew the little throwing knife I’d slipped into my purse, my purse which had never left me that evening and had hung around my neck like a watch dog of sorts.

I held it out, at his throat, he was that close, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t force myself to slit his throat, stab him, cut him, anything. My hands had frozen. They stayed frozen as Olaf’s big hands engulfed them and took my knife. I muffled a scream and pressed my back further into the wall.

Olaf leaned in and breathed into my face. I closed my eyes and opened them quickly. I wanted to know what he did, it’d be safer that way. Maybe not safer, but at least I’d know. He took my knife and ran it across my throat, and I thought he was going to kill me, slice my throat and let me bleed to death in the alley, and then the knife went lower.

The knife scraped down my collarbone pausing above the thick scar tissue that knotted it, and then went lower to stroke my breasts. I flinched but forced myself not to lower my eyes. He wanted that. I wouldn’t give it to him. Not all of the old me was dead. For once I was happy to know that.

Then the knife was at my face and I did scream. Olaf quickly slashed my cheeks and I could feel blood flow down them. He licked my cheek then and I shuddered as he did, then he kissed me. I closed my eyes and he stopped. After a long moment I opened them, and Olaf was nowhere to be seen.

I slid down the wall to the ground choking on the taste of my blood and him. It sickened me. I bent over at me waist and willed myself not to throw up. I didn’t. That’s when I noticed that he’d left my knife. I clutched it in my hand, and I knew that if he came back I’d rather die than let him touch me again. Or I’d kill him. But I still didn’t know if I could.

I found out soon enough because a hand grabbed my shoulder and I jerked my arm away and barreled up from where I knelt on the ground. He was on the ground and my knife was pressed against his throat drawing blood before I could blink.

It took me a minute to realize it wasn’t Olaf I was about to kill. It was Edward. And he was looking at me with solemn blue eyes. He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew it was bad. Trust him to know. Trust him. The tears started to trickle, and I couldn’t stop them. I just sat there crying silently as I held my knife to Edward’s throat. My fist was becoming coated with the blood I’d drawn, it flowed easily, but Edward never flinched. Instead he carefully brought a hand up to mine and gently took the knife.

I’d trusted him. He’d let me down. My hand stopped clutching the knife and Edward drew it away from me. He carefully stood up, but I stayed on the ground. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, about trust, about breaking it. It hurt too much. 

I shook my head and Edward reached a hand down to me. I took it and rubbed the tears from my face. Edward grabbed my hand and held it away from my face and I glared at him through my tears.

He looked at me sadly. “It’s okay, Anita. I won’t tell anyone you cried.”

And that’s what I did it. Edward, the most emotionless person I’d ever known, had just told me that it was okay to cry. I deserved it. So I did. I leaned into him and he held me while I cried, and I tried not to but couldn’t help it. I needed to be held, I needed to be comforted. For once in my life I let myself have exactly what I needed. I let someone else take care of me.

Was it my fault that it was Edward?


	7. Chapter 7

I hadn’t thought that it was possible for my night to get any worse. But it did. After my close encounter with Olaf and subsequent emotional outburst, Edward suggested we pick Becca up and go home. His exact words were, “You need some R&R.” This coming from Edward made it all the more serious. And that made me serious. Maybe that was why I wasn’t outrageously surprised by the scene that greeted me in the lower levels of the Circus.

Here I was in a short black dress, two already healing cuts on my cheeks, and pale as death, and there were Jean-Claude and Becca. Becca was in a pink leotard and tutu. Jean-Claude was wearing his usual white shirt, black pants, and pettable boots. And a pink tutu. They were both dancing to some type of classical music, Swan Lake I think, and Becca was giggling wildly. Neither of them noticed me in the doorway and my eyes were wide as I glanced over at Edward and his neutral face.

I blinked at him then turned back to the two… dancers. What else could I call them? Psychos came to mind. I shook my head and fought the urge to laugh. If I started, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop, and that would not be good. Hysteria on top of the fact Olaf was still on the loose were not compatible things.

“What is going on?” I asked, loud over the music.

Becca stopped dancing and ran to me, and I hugged her as she threw her arms around me. Jean-Claude glanced down at his tutu and then up at me. He smiled and said, “We were dancing, _ma petite_.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I said faintly. Becca was looking up at me, eyes wide and joyful.

“Can I spend the night with Uncle Fang-face, Mommy?” she asked. I glanced at Edward and he shrugged. I nodded at her and she ran off through a curtained doorway in the direction of her bedroom.

I looked at Jean-Claude for a long moment and his smile faded as he saw the blood on me, probably smelled it too. “What has happened this night, ma petite? It is your blood, not your monster’s.”

I didn’t answer him, instead I turned to Edward. “I’m going home,” I said in a voice that was strained. I was tired, they both knew it. He started to hand me the keys to the Jeep, but I shook my head. “It’s okay, Edward. I’m going to walk. You fill him in on it.”

I turned and walked out of the Circus, heading for somewhere, anywhere that was well lit but where I could be alone. I barely noticed the cold wind as I walked, didn’t care that it was nearly October and I didn’t have a jacket. I was tired, exhausted straight down to my soul. Too many things had happened in too short a time, I was having problems dealing with it.

My way of dealing with it at first had been to withdraw into myself, away from who I used to be. And still was, I realized with dismay. My only problem was I burned out. I walked for a long while, probably a few hours, and I knew that Edward would be worried. He was always worried about me now, and with an almost violent start I knew that was true, too.

Edward was worried about me. It was almost funny to think of Edward worrying about anyone, especially me. But as I walked, I began to think about the time that he’d been here in St. Louis, the time he’d been here as Becca’s father, then as my husband. I wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Or maybe Edward had only let me see more of him then anyone before.

He was a good person, regardless of what he said, and it was true. In all the years I’d known him, the only difference was he was willing to go farther than me to do his job. It was almost the same thing, except I killed the bad things to keep people safe and he killed them for money. I’d never known him to kill anyone who wasn’t on the wrong side of the line. I smiled at myself.

He was a good father to Becca, and to Anna too. I knew that he went to see her every day, more than once. Which was more than I could say for me. And to me… What was he to me?

That was something I couldn’t answer, and I leaned against the railing of a bridge I found myself on, staring down at the calm water beneath me. He’d taken care of me after Raina had… devastated me, broken me. Yes, I could admit that without shame now. Raina had broken me. What she had done to me would have broken anyone, I think.

And when I needed someone Edward had been there in one way or another. And he tried to protect me, I knew that. I’d seen it in his eyes when he’d told me about his plan to kill Olaf. He hadn’t liked his idea but if he’d come up with a better one, I knew he’d never have risked me tonight. But tonight had been strange. And wonderful.

Edward had let me see him. He’d dropped most of his carefully built walls and let me see _him_. I used to wonder if Edward liked me, if I was his friend, and I’d finally gotten the answer to that when I went to Santa Fe to return him the favor I owed him. But now… now I wondered if maybe there was something more behind it. And god help me, I wanted it to be something more.

Somewhere, somehow, Edward had become someone very important in my life. That explained some of the things I’d done, things I hadn’t been able to understand when I was so wrapped up with my own life and the things that were trying to hurt me. It certainly explained how Anna had come to be. Yes, Raina had started something, but I’d overpowered her before anything had happened. And even after I’d stopped her from making me sleep with Edward, I’d gone ahead with it.

Because I’d wanted to. I’d wanted him and I think he wanted me. No, I’m sure he wanted me. Edward was a good actor, but no one could be that good, and I knew he hadn’t acted at all the night we’d spent in each other’s arms. My only regret was I’d never continued it, I’d allowed myself to be repulsed by it because of Raina. She knew that I wanted him after that, but she hid it from me in the pieces of myself that were still missing from the amnesia.

She hadn’t wanted me happy, and I can’t say I blame her for it even if I do, but I would have done the same thing. If I wanted revenge on someone I was possessing I would have done the same thing. But I didn’t want to think about that right now, I wanted to talk to Edward. I stood up and turned to leave and then it hit me. A wave of pain that burst out of me like a scream. No, I was screaming. It hurt that much.

Something… something was missing, and I stumbled backwards into the railing. My arms flew up as I fell back, back over the rail, and I screamed as I fell.

As I hit the water, I knew what had happened. Jean-Claude was dead. Someone had killed him.


	8. Chapter 8

The water hit me like a thousand knives, it was so cold, and my breath whooshed out of me. The pain was so strong I couldn’t move anything, my arms, my legs. I could just sit there and sink deeper into the icy water. My chest burned and my lungs screamed at me to breathe. I didn’t. I kept my mouth closed tightly, I wouldn’t breathe. I had to try to get out of here, had to, and my body jerked as my mouth opened and I screamed into the water.

There was so much pain, so much, and I could feel Richard screaming too, miles away. Water rushed into my mouth and I tried not to breathe it in, but I felt it trickle down my throat and I knew I was going to die. I was going to die here under the calm of the river. Blackness edged my vision and my eyes widened as I struggled to see in the murky water.

Then I felt a sharp yank on my hair. Water rushed around me, I was being pulled out. But the darkness wasn’t going away and the water was still heavy in my lungs as I was dragged onto the bank. If anything, the darkness was getting worse, and I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like someone was sitting on it, beating it. No, the beating was my heart, and it was loud and slow in my ears.

I tried to focus my eyes on the figure that leaned over me, but I couldn’t. There were hands on me, pushing on my chest, tilting my head back, someone was breathing into my mouth. They were cursing, _he_ was cursing. I tried to say, “Edward,” but I didn’t have any breath in my lungs to say it.

I could hear him talking to me, he was saying my name. “Anita, Anita, don’t do this. Stay here, I need you.” But my mind was blurry. Everything was blurry and my eyes closed slowly, then there was nothing.

I woke up to a dull ache in my head and the overwhelming feeling of heat. There was a blanket on me, it was what was providing the heat. Electric or something, I think. I tried to push it off and sit up, but my chest ached too badly and someone was there holding me down. It was Cherry. Her mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear what she was saying, everything was so loud, the pain was too loud in my ears.

Then there was a cool sensation at the back of my throat and the roaring settled down into a dull yell. I could hear Cherry, she was calling to someone, Dr. Lillian, and I sank back into the bed. The pain was still fading, it didn’t hurt anymore, and I could focus more on Dr. Lillian and Cherry. They were talking softly about me. Then Dr. Lillian turned to me and shined a light in my eyes, looking me over.

“What’s your name?” she asked quietly as I blinked into her penlight. Her voice was soft and friendly, a doctor’s voice, and as she asked that I knew what had happened had been serious. Serious enough to bring me to Lillian and not to the hospital.

I blinked at her light again and said, “Anita Blake.” Then my patience was gone, I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to talk to Edward. “Edward… where is he?”

Cherry stepped up beside me then, smiling. It didn’t look like her usual giddy smile, and it wasn’t her screw the world smile. We’d finally broken her of her rebel attitude and she’d begun working at Dr. Lillian’s little werehospital, a welcome change for her and the pard.

“No, Anita. Right now you need to sleep.” Her voice was firm.

I blinked my eyes at her. They were getting heavier as I kept them open. “I did… sleep, Cherry? What’s going on?” I couldn’t think, I was so tired. The pain was gone but with it went my will to stay awake.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We gave you a stimulant to bring you back. We couldn’t let you die again. Now you’re going to sleep.”

Before my eyes closed again, I took the moment to think about what she said. It confused me. They couldn’t let me die again? Oh, I thought. I’d died back in Santa Fe. I’d forgotten that. Then my thoughts unraveled from the inside out and sleep claimed me.

I woke again, there was no pain. There wasn’t anything, it was so quiet. The room was silent, no machines to beep, nothing to buzz. And it was quiet inside my head. I tried to think on what had happened, why I was here, but I couldn’t think of it yet. I sat up and quickly gasped as my chest protested the movement.

I lifted the shirt I was wearing and looked at two healing burns on the left side of my chest. They were from a defibrillator; I knew that, they’d used those on me before. But the burns were healing quickly, they looked nearly gone, and I wondered how long I’d been here. “Shit,” I said softly.

There was a soft knock at the door, and I looked up. It was Edward. He was dressed in faded blue jeans and a wrinkled black shirt that looked like he’d slept in it. His blue eyes were blood shot and he was pale. Paler than usual I noticed, and he looked sick.

“Anita,” he said softly, and there was an edge to his voice that betrayed him. He _was_ sick, but why? Then I remembered the voice that I’d heard just after I’d been pulled out of the river. Edward had saved me. Again. And while I had the marks to protect me from illness, Edward was human and got sick.

I smiled at him knowing it was strained, but that was okay. It was a smile, and a genuine one, strained or no. He walked to my bed carefully and sat on the edge; there were no chairs. “Edward.”

He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were pale and empty. Then they melted into something else. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

I almost asked him why and then I remembered with a shock what had sent me over the railing. Jean-Claude was dead. I was his human servant, bound to him in life and death, and I had survived. That meant…

“Richard,” I choked out. Richard must have died if I was still alive. He must have blocked the pull as Jean-Claude’s marks pulled on ours, he must have transferred the drain to him. That meant I lived, and he didn’t.

Edward looked at me wearily. “He’s tending to pack business.” His voice was strained, and I could see how sick he was. He shouldn’t have been up, in my opinion, but I wasn’t going to second guess the experienced doctors who were taking care of us. Edward reached out and touched my hand gently, he was looking at where the shirt I was wearing scooped low enough to show one of the burns from the defibrillator.

I pulled the shirt up, a little embarrassed, more uncomfortable with the knowledge I’d died again. What was the total now? Four times, I think. I didn’t look at Edward’s face and he drew his hand back. I wanted to tell him not to, but I didn’t.

When it came, his voice was very low. “You died again, Anita.”

I nodded without looking up. I was afraid to speak, afraid my voice would tell him how scared I was because of that. “How did Richard survive?” I asked and my voice was steady. Brownie point for me.

“I don’t know.” He coughed and I looked up sharply. “Asher is the new Master of the City.”

“Asher?” I said in shock. Asher wasn’t strong enough to hold the city, I knew that, _he_ knew that. what was Asher thinking? It was suicide.

Edward must have read my face because he answered my questions before they passed my lips. “Apparently Asher has been holding out on you and the vampire. He has another human servant.” The way Edward said it made me think he’d spent a lot of time talking to Asher. As he continued, I found I was right.

“Everyone has been coming to see you, Asher and Damien mostly, they’ve been telling me what goes on in the city so I can tell you.” He said it conversationally, as though he hadn’t been playing with the things he normally killed. And it sounded like a lot had happened in a few days.

“How long have I been…” I didn’t know what to say. Sleeping didn’t sound right but I didn’t want to say unconscious. Call me superstitious but now that I was awake, I didn’t want to go back.

“Almost a week,” a voice said loudly from the door. Cherry was standing there with Dr. Lillian a few paces behind her. It was Cherry who’d spoken, but neither she nor the doctor looked pleased. I wasn’t sure if it was Edward or me they were mad at.

“I thought I told you no getting out of bed. At all,” Cherry said angrily as she glared at Edward. It was Edward they were mad at, not me, definitely Edward.

Edward looked back at her blankly and Dr. Lillian stepped over to him. “Are you going to go, or do we have to sedate you again?”

Again? Edward must have been causing problems for the good doctor if she had sedated him more than once. Edward sat there and said nothing and then Dr. Lillian grabbed his arm and had plunged a needle into it before he could move. That was a plus about being a were, you could move faster than humans. No mind tricks, no magic, you were just that fast.

Edward’s face didn’t change as she pulled the needle out and even though only a few seconds had passed his face went slack and he slumped forward where he sat. Cherry was there catching him, and she slung him over her shoulder and carried him out of the room. Dr. Lillian watched and I just cringed at the naked needle in her hand.

She turned to me smiling. “I’m glad to see you awake, Anita. We were beginning to worry.” The smile faded a few notches and she looked at me carefully. “I was afraid the stimulant we injected into your heart had hurt you, but it seems that you healed just fine.”

“A stimulant into my heart?” My voice was breathy as I thought about a needle going straight into it. It was so similar to how I’d killed so many vampires that it spooked me.

Dr. Lillian nodded her head and I wondered if she recalled my fear of needles. She laid a hand gently on my arm and smiled at me. “In the end it worked, you’ll live.”

“How did Richard live?” I asked bluntly.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. They brought him in, and he was unconscious for a day. Then he woke up. He was fine.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You would have come out of it sooner if you hadn’t gone off the bridge. You were drowning and dying from the marks at the same time. I don’t pretend to know how both of you survived his death, but I for one am thankful.”

She turned and walked to the door. “And you should keep that husband of yours,” she grinned at this, “under wraps. He’s been pacing the hall ever since we drugged you.”

That reminded me and I said, “He’s sick.”

The smile left her face and she nodded. “He’s human, he gets sick.” She stood in the doorway like she knew I had more questions. I did.

“He’ll be okay?” She didn’t answer me. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be okay if he rests. He refused to rest until he knew you weren’t going to die. But he made it worse than it could have been,” and she spread her hands. “A simple cold can escalate into pneumonia very quickly and easily.”

My face stayed blank but that scared me. I’d lost a lot of people in the recent weeks, I’d killed some of them, and I didn’t want to lose Edward. Not now and maybe… not ever. And if he died soon, I wanted it to be because someone was lucky or better than him, not because he was sick and couldn’t sit his ass down to get well.

I looked very carefully at Dr. Lillian. “I’ll take care of him,” I said. I’d make him rest. No more pacing, getting up and doing anything, no more making it worse; he’d be in bed and wouldn’t be out of it until he was healthy.

Dr. Lillian looked at me, eyes narrowed, then smiled. “I believe you will,” and she turned and left.


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Lillian released me a day after I woke up end sent me home with strict instructions on making Edward get better. He wasn’t allowed out of bed. Period. I didn’t argue with her, he needed to rest, he looked worse than I’d ever seen him before except when he was unconscious in the hospital back in Santa Fe. But it was close.

Edward argued. I’d expected it. The second he opened his mouth I smacked a hand over it and kicked him in the leg. Normally he wouldn’t have reacted, now he grimaced and stumbled. Then I pushed him down into a nearby chair, his face had paled even more when he’d stumbled. He quit arguing after that and let me take him home.

Becca was at home, she was being cared for by Zane and some pack members. Sylvie and Jason had all but moved into her room and there was no room to put Edward in there, so I sacrificed my bed for him. He collapsed into it and didn’t protest when I stripped him down to his jeans and left telling him to change into a pair of pajama pants Zane had supplied.

I headed for the kitchen telling everyone to stay quiet; Becca followed me like a shadow. I made some soup for Edward, adding the antibiotic powders I’d been told to add to it, and then turned around to Becca. I knelt and held out my arms and she raced into them hugging me tightly.

“I missed you, Mommy, I was so scared…” she whispered softly.

I stroked her curls and then kissed her forehead. She knew I’d been hurt, she knew Edward, her father, was very sick, and she knew Jean-Claude was dead. She’d been at the Circus when it had happened but thankfully, she’d been in her room asleep. “I was scared too, baby. I was scared that you’d been hurt.”

It was true. I’d nearly panicked when I remembered that Becca had been with Jean-Claude when he’d been murdered. But I’d been told she was safe. She was and I was thankful. The doorbell rang and I pulled back and looked into her solemn eyes. “I need your help to make Daddy better, sweetie. Can you do that?”

She nodded, eyes wide, and I handed her the bowl of warm soup from the counter. “Take that to my room and make sure Daddy eats it all. I’ll be along in a few minutes after I see who’s here, okay?”

She nodded and walked down the hall slowly, being careful not to spill a drop. I wanted to wait and watch her, not because I was afraid that she’d spill it—she was the most responsible seven-year-old I’d ever known, a side effect of her life—but more because I wanted to watch her. Dying again seemed to have killed, or at least beaten back my sense of failure and withdrawal. I turned away before I could convince myself to follow her and take care of Edward. The doorbell rang again, it had to be answered.

I didn’t bother checking to see who was on the other side when I opened it, careless—Edward would have been angry if he’d seen it. But there wasn’t a bad guy on the other side of the door. It was Dolph. Dolph, who I’d shot more than a month ago. Shot and _killed_.

My jaw almost hit the floor and I had to cling to the door because of the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed me. If it had been any sooner after Jean-Claude’s death I would have fainted.

I had killed Dolph, I’d seen him take two slugs in the chest and go down. There’d been blood, and he’d died. But as I looked at him, I knew Dolph was very much alive.

His left arm was in a sling and he stood there tensely, like someone waiting for his death sentence to be carried out. Which isn’t such a funny thought, since I had tried to kill him. But I’d done it! My mind was reeling with this and I said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re alive!” My shock and surprise were loud and clear and Dolph took it badly. His face darkened and I knew he thought I wasn’t pleased that he’d lived. I don’t blame him, but right then I was a little giddy that he was standing there in front of me.

I motioned for him to come in and he stepped across the doorway warily. It made me feel worse than I did from killing him. But the guilt over his actual death was fading a bit and all that it left was the guilt from trying to kill him.

That wasn’t all mine to bear, Raina had had a hand in it, but I… I still enjoyed it. Some little dark part of me had enjoyed watching his fear and then his death. But he hadn’t died, and relief washed over me once more.

Before I closed the door, I’d wrapped my arms around Dolph and was hugging him. It was funny, me being so short and him being so tall. There was over a foots difference in our height. But I hugged him tightly, and I knew forgiveness would come when he hugged me back.

The door closed and I pulled away and looked up at a very smug Zane. Why did I have the feeling he had something to do with this? Or maybe he just knew about it, I thought as he smiled and walked back into the kitchen leaving Dolph and I alone in the living room.

Dolph looked down at me and his frown faded some but didn’t leave completely. What replaced the part that left was utter confusion, and he asked, “Anita, what the hell is going on?”

I looked at him and my face was one of utter despair. There was no way I could explain this to him without him thinking I was crazy. I shrugged, this was going to be a long day.

Several hours and two pots of coffee later, barring the few times I went to check on Edward who was sound asleep thanks to the antibiotics Dr. Lillian had given me, Dolph and I had traded stories. He’d been very understanding and hadn’t questioned Raina’s demonic possession over me. I’d asked about that, but he reminded me that he’d heard what she said after I supposedly had killed him.

And Dolph had told me how they faked his death. He explained how Ted had come to him and warned him that I was doing bad things. Not because I wanted to, he’d given a rough idea of someone forcing me to do the hits.

Dolph had listened to him, had believed him. He’d been wearing a vest under his suit that night, he’d been ready for it. I protested about the blood. I knew it had been real blood, I’d been able to smell it.

He explained that Edward, I mean Ted, had gotten a few of my people in on it, most of them knowing full well who Raina was and who I was, and they willingly helped despite my being a human lupa simply because Raina was that hated among the lukoi. The blood had been from one of my people; Larry had followed me and hid in the shadows behind me. He’d shot Dolph in the shoulder.

What surprised me was that Dolph was okay with this. He’d been okay with it before it happened. But it made me feel kind of warm, he’d gone through all that to save me from Raina and myself. Friendship is a beautiful thing.

He asked me about Jean-Claude; it was common knowledge that the Master of the City had been murdered, assassinated, and that we had a new Master. He asked how I lived through it, being the human servant of the dead Master, and I answered him honestly, telling him the entire truth.

I told him about the marks, about being bound to Richard and Jean-Claude both, and then I explained to him that when Richard realized I wasn’t going to be able to live through Jean-Claude’s death he’d closed the marks between them and me.

Dolph asked about that too and I had to tell him about my brush with death. But I was able to joke about it; I told him drowning was now high on my list of ways not to die. He smiled but I think it wasn’t as funny to him as it was to me.

He didn’t ask how Richard survived it all and was up and about before me. I think that was because he knew I didn’t know. I didn’t, and I hadn’t been able to ask Richard yet. He’d been so busy with pack business and helping Asher and his servant cement their new status that we hadn’t seen each other since before Jean-Claude’s death. And Dolph didn’t know who the new Master of the City was. I knew because he asked me if I knew.

I said yes, but I wasn’t free to tell him who it was. I did tell him that the new Master would be a good one. I knew Asher would do well, he had a good heart despite all of his time with the Council.

I wondered briefly if the Council was going to look into Jean-Claude’s murder. I doubted it, not many of them liked the St. Louis preternatural crowd very much. Oh well.

By the time Dolph and I had finished night was falling and Dolph and I were on steady ground. The friendship wasn’t over, but we were both a little off balance from everything that had happened. I was thrown even more when Dolph asked me if Edward was going to live. He said Edward, not Ted. I didn’t question it, but it made me think that Dolph knew something I didn’t know.

But there were a lot of people that knew things I didn’t know lately.

I told him yes, even though I was a little worried myself, and then Dolph said it was time for him to go. I assumed it was to go home to Lucille, but he told me something else I hadn’t known. According to every record available he was dead.

My jaw dropped once again. “What do you mean, you’re dead?”

He smiled at me, one of the few times I could recall seeing him smile at my discomfort. “Your husband arranged it in case they couldn’t get rid of Raina. But until he’s better I’m still dead. So I’m going to a hotel.”

I almost insisted that he stay with me, but I had nowhere to put him. So we said good-bye and I hugged him again. I think Dolph was uncomfortable with my newfound touchy feely routine, but I was still reassuring myself that he was alive. Then I headed down the hall to check on Becca and Edward.

Becca was in her room playing Monopoly with all of her preternatural babysitters, so I kept going, careful not to disturb them. Then I headed into my room. Edward was asleep. His face was pale and damp; he’d been sweating despite the fact the air in the room was cool, almost cold. I touched his forehead and it was hot. He never moved, though I checked to make sure he was breathing. He was, I’m paranoid.

I went into the bathroom and dug a washcloth out from under the sink, wetting it and then using it to smooth the faint worry lines on his brow. I sat down on the bed next to him and then got back up immediately. I’d sat on something hard. I pulled the sheet back and found that Edward had a mini-Uzi in bed with him.

And his Beretta, and some throwing spikes, and one of my knives. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was paranoid. His hand was loose on the grip for the Uzi and I slid it from under his hand. His eyes fluttered open as I did and he said softly, “No.”

I shook my head as I carefully gathered all the other weapons to lay them in my closet, closing the doors firmly. He couldn’t see I still had the Beretta in my hand, and as I turned I said, “Just this one, no more.”

He nodded and then flinched as I sat next to him sliding the Beretta into the headboard holster, which was empty, I was actually wearing the Browning. “What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly.

He shook his head, then, “It’s so damned hot…”

I laid the washcloth on his forehead and pulled the sheet up to his chin. Kissing his cheek I said, “Go to sleep, Edward. It’ll be better in the morning.”

He closed his eyes and I got up and made a bed on the floor next my bed. Laying down I said again softly, “It’ll be better in the morning,” and I settled in for a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

Two days I’d been waiting, two days I spent nursing Edward back to health while Richard and Asher went about their business in the preternatural community. Now I was sitting in the lower levels of the Circus, the last place I’d seen Jean-Claude alive, waiting to see Asher and meet his new human servant. Though calling him a ‘new’ human servant wouldn’t be entirely accurate, apparently they’ve been bound to each other for several years. I was fiddling on the black leather couch, looking anxiously at the empty walls.

Patience is not one of my virtues. Or maybe I was just anxious to get back to Edward, he was still sick, and I didn’t entirely trust the pard and pack members to keep him alive. A few of them still had bad blood towards him because of who he is and what he does.

Lucky for me, Asher didn’t keep me waiting very long. Actually, I hardly waited at all, it just felt like forever. Asher strolled in followed by a man of medium height and narrow build. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said he was human. Except that I’d lived with his particular flavor of power for too long not to recognize it. He was a wereleopard.

Asher walked straight to me, his face neutral but his eyes telling. As he saw me, he thought of Jean-Claude. I did too, but the pain wouldn’t come anymore, I’d buried it so deep that it would stay buried until I was ready to let it out. Asher’s face, beautiful despite the scars, broke into a smile-wide enough to show fang.

“ _Ma cherie_. You have come to see me, finally.” There was genuine happiness in his voice, and sorrow also, but I knew what that was from.

I nodded. “I would have come sooner, but…” I didn’t finish what I was saying. Everyone knew what had happened the night Jean-Claude had died, very nearly me with him. So Asher knew that Edward had taken a dip in freezing water to save me and was now paying the price. I’m sure he was thinking. Poor human.

The thought made me laugh and on a whim I reached out and hugged Asher tightly, resting my head on his shoulder and just… being happy. Well, as happy as I could be. But that was pretty damned happy. Asher tensed against me and then relaxed, draping his arms and squeezing me. I sighed and stepped back, taking his hands in mine.

“Being Master has agreed with you, hasn’t it?” I commented. His face was without shadows despite his new role in the public eye, and I noticed how he glanced at the young man standing slightly behind him on his right. I still didn’t know the wereleopard’s name, but that was easily remedied. With a smile I stepped away from Asher further, and towards the wereleopard.

I extended my hand. “Hi, I’m Anita.” The smile was still on my face, and it showed a calm and peace that I was beginning to wish I really had. Despite my happiness over some things, I could still feel the other things in my life eating at me. Mostly right now the fact that I wasn’t with Edward. As soon as the niceties were over that one would be remedied.

The wereleopard looked over my shoulder at Asher and I could sense somehow that he was giving the wereleopard the okay. Then his hand was in mine and I was being stroked from the inside out by his power. It was warm, not hot, and it was fuzzy inside my head. He smiled at me and for the first time I noticed how his eyes were just a little slanted, like a cat’s, and how they glowed a golden green color.

“Elmer,” he said, still smiling. “My name is Elmer.”

I wanted to laugh, at the very least giggle, but neither would have been appropriate. That in itself was laughable, me doing preternatural politics. Anyone who was this good looking—tawny hair, firm body, interesting but beautiful eyes—should not have a name like Elmer. But at least it wasn’t Fabio.

I’d go as far as to say he was a better deal than Fabio, anyway. He dressed better. Jeans, tee shirt, and sneakers. A man after my own heart, one who wants the creature comforts of simple clothing. But that was beyond the real reason I’d visited tonight—I needed Asher’s help. Smiling at him once more, I turned from Elmer to his master and felt my face school itself into perfect blankness of its own accord.

Asher’s face followed mine and Elmer just walked past me with a preternatural grace and settled himself on the couch I’d vacated minutes before. Asher looked at me intensely before asking, “What is wrong, Anita?”

I took a deep breath before telling him. This was a favor, definitely a favor, and an impossible one if I’d ever heard one. “I need your help, Asher.” He nodded and stayed silent. I had the urge to say, “Smart vampire,” but now was not the time to patronize anyone, especially someone I was about to ask to stick his neck out for me.

“I need you to find someone for me, Asher. A very bad someone.”

Asher looked at me for a long moment and then turned and walked to the main entrance to the lower level. There were a few additions I was just beginning to notice, like a heavy door on every entrance. Heavy metal doors that were most likely steel or something as strong or stronger. Asher closed the one to the main entrance and Elmer followed suit closing all others.

When they were closed and locked, we were alone in the stone walled room. I was beginning to be a little nervous about the situation, more so as Asher and Elmer walked slowly to me. But then they both stopped. Suddenly stopping made me even more jumpy and I pulled the Browning. More habit than anything, but it was out and on the biggest threat I saw—Elmer.

Asher wouldn’t touch me, he wouldn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t so sure about his servant. I wasn’t exactly the sweetheart of the preternatural community and the way he was looking at me was… hungry. Not something I’m comfortable with.

Asher waved a hand and Elmer the wereleopard slunk over to the couch and sprawled on it again, draping himself on it bonelessly. I thought again how catlike it was, but I shook the thought out of my head as Asher took another step towards me.

“Asher, don’t.” I didn’t say anything else, but those two words said it all. I would kill him without regret, without second guessing it, without hesitation if he took one more step.

I knew that this should bother me, it would have little more than a week ago, and maybe even a few years farther, but not anymore. No, I couldn’t let it bother me, not when I had a family to protect. I smiled a little at this, making my face look less foreboding, but the truth was still on my face. The truth that I would pull the trigger in a heartbeat.

Asher knew it, saw it in my eyes, and he stopped, his own eyes as clear as the summer sky, but not as warm. He was hurt. And angry.

“I would not harm you, Anita, nor would I let my human servant,” he said softly, quietly, and I could hear the pain and regret coloring his words.

I lowered the Browning slowly, blinking. Damn, my eyes were burning. I was about to cry, and I couldn’t blame it on being pregnant anymore. “I know, Asher,” I replied, just as soft. “I’m just… I’m just…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I wanted to say I was scared, but he already knew that.

I closed my eyes tightly, willing the tears back inside, and when I spoke again my voice was firm and without any emotion. “His name is Van Cleef. I need to find him.”

Asher nodded, still not moving. “Do you know anything else, _ma cherie_?”

He was still calling me _ma cherie,_ I realized, and I nearly broke into tears again. I shook my head wordlessly, biting my lip. Then I remembered one more thing that might help. “We killed him once already. Or we thought we did.” I scowled.

“And?”

“He lived,” I said flatly.

Elmer spoke up from the couch and his voice was touched with a low growl. I was reminded for a second of Gabriel, but the notion quickly passed as I looked at Elmer. He was one of the good guys, I told myself firmly. He was Asher’s, Asher was good, Asher was one of my people, and that was that.

“Who’s we?”

“Edward. Me and Edward.”

I didn’t say anymore, I just looked at Asher and he understood what I was saying. I had to go back to him, he needed me. Asher nodded and unlocked the main entrance himself, quickly, silently. I smiled at Elmer as he left, he smiled back and said, “I look forward to seeing you again,” and I knew he meant it without malice. It was nothing more than friendliness.

Asher I hugged before I left, needing to touch him, to make sure he was real and alive. As alive as he could be. But to make sure I wasn’t dreaming all of this, like maybe I’d wake up and everything would be okay. But I already knew I wouldn’t be waking up from any dream.

Asher held me gently then kissed my forehead. “I will find this man you search for, I give you my word, no matter how long it takes.”

And I knew he meant it, that he would keep searching until he found Van Cleef or until he died again. I reached up and softly kissed his scarred cheek. “Thank you, _mon chardonneret_ ,” I whispered.

He smiled at me and I saw his love in his eyes. Memories. Between the two of us we’d grow old—or in his case just older—and we’d keep Jean-Claude with us.

I turned away quickly and walked up the stairs. Then I went home to my family. Home to Becca, who was playing Monopoly with Jason and Sylvie again. Zane was curled up on the couch watching a Disney movie Becca had probably started out watching but left after the first five minutes. And then I went down the hall to Edward.

He was stretched out under the blanket with it pulled up to his chin. So far up that I couldn’t see his face. I went closer and was only a few feet from the edge of the bed before I realized that he wasn’t breathing. My heart froze in my chest as I jerked the blanket away, intent on giving CPR to… a pillow. The bed was empty except for a few pillows.

“Oh… oh, God,” I said softly. I raced to the closet and flung the doors open. His weapons were gone, taken with him. “No.” my mind stopped functioning and I’m not sure if my heart skipped its regularly scheduled beating again or if it just hadn’t started since I thought Edward was dead.

“No, no, no. Oh, God, no!”

I was out of the bedroom in an instant, my eyes blazing and my anger and fear screaming out from my face. “Jason! Sylvie! Zane!” my voice was loud and harsh. “Where is he?”

Three sets of eyes locked on me and three faces went deathly pale.

“I left him here with you. I told you to watch him, to take care of him. NOT TO LET HIM LEAVE!” Jason looked at me fearfully and Zane looked away. Only Sylvie looked at my face without fear. I glared at her. “You’re a lycanthrope. You would have heard him leave, he’s that sick. I gave you orders, you failed me.”

I looked from face to face, giving each of them the full dose of my anger. “If he’s hurt, I will punish you. If he dies, your lives are mine. It is my right as lupa and Nimir-ra. Do any of you argue that?”

No one did. I pulled a jacket on, grabbing it from the back of the couch. It was probably Jason's, but I didn’t care. I needed more than just mine, which I hadn’t taken off. I’d need something for Edward when I found him. I turned away saying, “I’m going to go find him. If you’re smart, you’ll take Becca to the Circus and search for him yourselves.”

“And pray that he’s okay. Or…”

I let my voice trail off. They didn’t want to hear the ‘or’ part, I didn’t want to repeat it in front of Becca, who was watching me wide eyed. I’d make it up to her, my yelling, when I found Edward. Until then she’d be okay. Without looking back I stepped out into the cold night.


	11. Chapter 11

I started at the Circus, just to see if Edward had made it there, but after a cursory sweep and a promise from Asher that they would detain him if he showed, I left and headed out to search other places. I checked the warehouse that Raina and Gabriel had used years ago to film their snuff films and other things. Then I checked the hotel Edward usually stayed in when he was in town.

The bridge where he’d saved me, the caves we’d snuck through to get into the Circus, the District. I even went to the hospital to see if he’d gone to see Anna. He hadn’t. I lingered long enough to talk to her, just to say hi. And tell her she’d be coming home soon. Another week and the doctors would give the okay.

Her hands were so tiny and so soft in mine, it made me feel very… large. And rough. I had no better comparison or even word for it. Looking at her made me feel very… different. Maternal. More than when I acquired Becca as my stepdaughter. This was different because she was still a baby.

Then I stayed a few minutes with her, marveling at her size—she was so tiny! I even held her. The nurses offered to let me feed her, but I said no and then I left as quickly as I’d come. The time I’d spent with Anna could very well cost Edward his life. That was something I didn’t want to happen. And I especially didn’t want to be responsible for it.

I was walking down a dark street when I began to have a change of heart about having decided to search for Edward by myself. Someone was following me. I stepped around the corner of a building and pulled the Browning and as my would-be stalker stepped around the building himself, I shoved the Browning under his chin as I forced him into the wall with a well-placed shoulder.

Just as quickly I drew the Browning away and re-holstered it. It was Elmer who was following me, and I bit back the urge to ask why he was. I had a fair idea why, though I couldn’t imagine why exactly he would pick tonight to have another talk with me. Unless… unless Asher had ordered him to.

His hands were up, and his cat eyes glowed in the dim light as he said, “Asher asked me to keep you safe.”

My brow furrowed as my face scrunched up in confusion. “How did Asher know I wasn’t home?”

Elmer shrugged saying, “I don’t know. He keeps his privacy, I keep mine. We like it that way.”

I grumbled. “Couldn’t you have asked?”

He shrugged and I resisted the urge to say something awful to him. Then I ignored him and began heading out to look for Edward again. Elmer’s hand on my arm stopped me.

“It’s almost dawn, Anita. You need to go home.” His voice was soft and firm. I was willing to bet that Asher had told him to make sure I was safely indoors at sunrise.

I looked up and he was right; it was almost dawn and there was a soft rose hue to the sky. If I weren’t still worried about Edward I would have been in awe of the beauty. And if I hadn’t been so tired. Then I continued ignoring Elmer and started out again. And he stopped me again.

“Asher asked me to see you home then to continue the search for your lover.” I must have let my blank face down for a second because moments after he said ‘lover’ his face became stricken and he said, “Husband. Your husband.”

I pulled it back into place and walked past him, this time heading for home. Elmer followed, silently, but I knew he was there because I’d opened the marks between Richard and I very narrowly, just enough to let me feel Elmer. The leopard was very good at hiding what he was and unless he was close to me, I couldn’t feel him.

Looking out into the dawn I nodded to thin air, Elmer wasn’t anywhere that I could though I knew he was still there. It was my way of saying thank you for keeping the search up. Then I unlocked the door and stepped inside. My house was silent, and I knew the pard must have done as I’d said. Becca would be at the Circus and they would be searching.

I took my two jackets off and dropped them on the floor behind the door, then slipped the shoulder holster off and lay it on the hall table, pulling the Browning so that I could put it in the headboard holster of my bed. As I stepped into the living room to go to bed I smiled at Edward. He was sitting on the couch.

Absently, as I began to unbutton my shirt with one hand, Browning still in the other, I said, “Stop bleeding on the couch, Edward.”

I made it all the way to my room before I realized what I’d said and whom I’d seen. The second I did I was flying back into the living room to him. He was lying on the couch, bleeding from what looked like a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

He was pale as he looked at me and his voice was soft as he said, “Got him… he won’t be back.”

I didn’t get the chance to ask who he meant because at that moment his eyes rolled back into his head and his body slumped forward as he passed out. I caught him in my arms and screamed for Elmer, praying that he heard me.

Edward was still asleep, or what was passing for his sleep. Since he’d come home shot up and more sick than ever, he’d just been getting worse. Dr. Lillian was worried. I was freaking. I’d put him to bed after begging Dr. Lillian to let him stay, then I’d taken a few days off from work to make sure he didn’t sneak out again.

As I sat down on the edge of the bed I was beginning to wonder if I really needed to worry about him getting up and going anywhere at all. His face was pale, deathly pale, and his skin was slick with sweat. I could live with that being it, with him having those for symptoms. Because neither of those scared me as badly as listening to him breathe did.

His breath rattled inside him and I could hear, I could actually hear, the fluid in his lungs. And that scared me. Because that fluid was taking up space that air should have been. And if Edward didn’t start getting better soon… he was going to die. He was going to drown inside himself; suffocate because there was nowhere to breathe.

Edward had flung the covers off himself yet again, I suppose it was hot under them to him, but I dutifully pulled them back up to his chin trying to ignore the way his skin was cold and clammy. It didn’t work because I could feel my throat tighten and my eyes sting.

Dammit! I wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t dying yet, and he wasn’t going to die. Not now, not like this. I tried blinking the tears away, but they spilled down my cheeks and onto Edward’s. His eyes flickered and he murmured something softly. I wasn’t sure what it was, and I leaned forward to hear what he was saying.

The second I heard it I wished I hadn’t. “Donna,” he was saying, in a voice that was almost soundless even in the silence of an empty house. I stood up quickly, unable to breathe for a moment. Peter’s name followed hers and my mouth, which had been open, snapped shut.

I shook my head and turned away, I wanted to get out of there. Anywhere but there, where my husband, my unlikely husband, whispered another woman’s name. It hurt. More than I wanted to admit. My thoughts from the night I’d taken my trip off the bridge came back to me and I finally completed them.

God help me.

I was in love with Edward.

And then the rest of the thoughts came back to me. How he took care of me, one way or another, when I needed it. I shook my head. No, I wasn’t going to leave him alone. I couldn’t. What would happen if he got worse while I was off licking my wounds? He’d die, I told myself bluntly. That’s what would happen.

So I turned around and went back to him, back to his side. I knelt by the bed, crossed my legs, and sat on my ankles. And there I would wait until he needed me. Or until I got too tired and crawled into the bed I’d made on the other side of the room. I rested my arms on the bed and then sat my chin on the backs of my hands. The bed rolled a little at the pressure and Edward’s eyes fluttered open.

He looked at me and I could see him fighting to focus on me, he was that bad. It scared me a little. It scared me a lot. I smiled at him knowing it wasn’t very comforting since it was coming from me. My eyes were sure to be bloodshot now, and I knew my face was tired and showing it. But that was okay, as long as he was okay. As long as he lived.

“’Nita…” his voice was soft, but it wasn’t a dreamy voice. He was awake, he knew who I was. A small part of me rejoiced in that and I reached out and touched his cheek gently. It wasn’t cold like the rest of him, it was hot.

I pulled my hand away from his face and brought it back to cushion my own. “You doing okay in there, Edward?” My voice was soft.

"Go 'way, 'Nita... don' wanna.. go 'way..." His voice was soft, insistent, and he meant every word. “Go ‘way from me… can’t… not like Donna, go ‘way…”

Donna again. Almost two years later and he still thought of her. Who was I kidding? I’d hoped that maybe Edward loved me. Maybe he did. But what was I next to Donna? Certainly not what he really wanted. My heart did a funny little slow dive down to the pit of my stomach and I leaned back.

“Okay, Edward,” I said, and my voice was steady. But no brownie point, I didn’t need it for this. All I was doing was letting Edward be with his ghosts. And when I left chances were he’d become one himself. Which was a bad choice of words I decided as I watched his eyes flicker and then roll back into his head.


	12. Chapter 12

I had Dr. Lillian on the phone in half a heartbeat she started yelling at me. I think I was a little hysterical. Normal sickness is not something I’m familiar with. Losing Edward wasn’t something I was familiar with either. And it wasn’t something I wanted to be.

She told me to make sure he was breathing and that his heart was beating. He was, and it was. Shallow and faint, but he was breathing. His heart fluttered a little though and I could hear him struggle to breathe through the fluid in his lungs. It scared me so badly I almost missed what Dr. Lillian said next.

Following her instructions, taking a few minutes to find a thermometer, I took his temperature. It was high. Very high. When I told her Dr. Lillian began barking instructions to get him into the tub with cold water and ice.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking as I struggled to balance the phone and Edward at the same time. I was dragging him to the bathroom to throw him in the tub.

Her voice was very soft and very… grave as she told me. “Brain damage can occur past 104 degrees, death past 106.”

I didn’t hear another word because I dropped the phone. Edward’s fever was just over 105 degrees and I had no illusions that it wasn’t rising. I muscled him into the tub and raced to the kitchen getting every single ice cube I could and anything what was frozen and somewhere in the vicinity of being well wrapped. It was almost funny to see Edward lying in a tub full of cold water and ice, especially with a frozen pizza floating next to him. But for some reason I couldn’t laugh.

I went back into my bedroom and grabbed the phone up, but Dr. Lillian had already hung up. I decided that she would be heading over to my house and hung my end of the line up. Then it was back to the bathroom to wait for help to arrive. I didn’t wait very long, Dr. Lillian must have broken several traffic laws on her way over, but she was there and she was going to help.

And help she did, she took over once she got there. Within twenty minutes I’d been kicked out of the bathroom and was waiting nervously as she went to work. Actually, I was feeling more panicked and scared than nervous. And I couldn’t think straight. Or maybe I was just trying not to think straight.

Thinking straight wasn’t good. It was only making me more worried. More scared. It didn’t make me feel any better, but I could admit it.

I was just accepting that I could admit it when the bathroom door opened, and Dr. Lillian stepped out carrying Edward. She’d slung him over her shoulder and was bringing him out. She laid him down on the bed very carefully and I noticed that the bandage on his shoulder had been changed. That made me realize I could see the bandage. Dr. Lillian had stripped him, and he was wrapped in a big fluffy white towel. Not exactly the color I’d associate with him.

I tried to smile but I couldn’t. All I could see was how pale he was, how close in color the towel and he were. But he looked very peaceful. I walked over and pulled the blanket up around him, kneeling by the bed. I tried very hard not to cry. And I didn’t. I couldn’t help it that my eyes were running.

A hand slipped around one of mine, still holding the blanket, and I looked up at Dr. Lillian. Her eyes were tired, but she was smiling. That wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be smiling, not when my… when Edward was dying. Or maybe I should be happy. He wouldn’t be sick anymore if he died. He’d be better.

“Is he…?” My voice was soft and unsure. I hated how young I sounded, how naïve and innocent.

She shook her head. “He’s not dying. Not yet, at least. Another trip out into this weather will kill him, Anita.” I frowned and she continued. “He is not to leave this house for anything. I don’t want him out of this bed until he can sit up by himself.”

I nodded, tightlipped. Oh yes, I blamed myself for him getting out and playing in the first place. I should have stayed home with him, taken care of him. I wouldn’t leave him this time, not until I knew he was better. Not until he was given a clean bill of health from Dr. Lillian.

She smiled at me again and I smiled back. For a few minutes we had an understanding. And so began the long road of recovery for Edward and the longer road of discovery for me. Edward made it through the night, he slept like a baby. Actually, I think it had more to do with the drugs Dr. Lillian put him on rather than any real sleep. She kept him drugged for nearly two weeks, until he could sit up without being disoriented, and when he could sit up, she still wouldn’t let him out of bed.

Which irritated him beyond belief. It was funny, to me at least. I think it scared the weres. They still hadn’t stopped tiptoeing around after the night he’d left. I wasn’t going to apologize for it though, so for a little while it was going to be rough. I did have to do my share of comforting when Cherry and Zane couldn’t cope with Nathaniel’s death.

I hadn’t noticed how it was affecting them for a while. I felt bad about that, but I couldn’t change it. All I could do was to be there for now. So I was. I still wouldn’t let them crawl into my bed, but I don’t think they minded since I wasn’t in my bed. I was still sleeping on the floor.

Anna came home two days after Edward came down from his drug high, Jason and Elmer took me to get her since I wanted to hold her on the way home. Edward was sleeping when we got home, I woke him up.

“Wake up, daddy,” I said as I kicked the side of the bed gently. He wasn’t the easiest of sleepers and he was still insisting I give him his weapons back.

I sat down as he rolled over, Anna still in my arms. She was awake and smiling. I don’t think he knew that she was there because when he saw her he couldn’t hide the surprise. His eyes widened and I felt my heart start a little. Anna’s eyes were the same color.

He pulled himself into a sitting position and I grinned as I realized he hadn’t needed help to do so. Then I took advantage of his open arms. I dropped Anna into them. His started and then clutched her to his chest, smiling as he did so. For a moment he just looked at her and then back at me and it was my turn to nearly jump off the bed. My mind was screaming, “He knows, he knows,” and I knew that her eyes had given it away.

But instead of accusing me of not telling him that she was his daughter, he told me she was beautiful. Then he pulled me to him in a hug. I tensed in his arms and then let myself go, wrapping my arms around him and our daughter. The thought brought a faint smile to my face and I very nearly said thank you. I didn’t. I don’t think he would have understood me thanking him for Anna.

As quickly as he had hugged me, he let go of me and I fought the wave of sadness that rose in me. Another thing he wouldn’t understand, I was sure. I took Anna from him and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, noting how much better he looked.

“Get some sleep, Edward,” I said. Then I left him alone.

It was still another week before he was allowed out of bed. A week during which I was kept busy beyond belief with friends and family coming by every day. It got so bad that I was looking forward to going to work and seeing Bert rather than stay home and put up with all of the visitors. And I felt guilty about being grateful for Becca’s deep involvement with a school play. So young and so serious, but she was happy.

But once Edward was finally out of bed, I began to worry less about him. I still didn’t know where he had gone or what he had done… well, exactly. I knew he’d killed someone. I just didn’t know who it was. And he refused to tell me. Even when he was drugged all to hell, he wouldn’t tell me. And I had no hopes of finding out now that he was getting better.

But Edward has never been predictable. So I haven’t figured out whether I should have been surprised or not when he said we needed to talk. All I know is I was surprised, whether I should have been or not.

“I know you’re mad at me, Anita,” he said quietly, his face perfectly blank. “For leaving. And for not telling you what I’ve done.”

I sat down speechless. He thought I was angry with him. I wasn’t. I could never be angry with him over something like that. Irritated, yes, hell yes. But angry? No. This is what he did. He was a secret loving bastard most of the time and had been for as long as I’d known him. I didn’t expect that to change.

He looked down at me and his eyes were intense. “I had to make sure you were safe, Anita. You and the girls.” He stepped closer and dropped down to his knees, so that his eyes were level with mine. “I had to make sure,” he said again, and it sounded almost afraid.

That wasn’t right. Edward wasn’t afraid of anything, except maybe not getting paid for a job. But I think that would just make him angry. It made me afraid. For a second I thought maybe he’d killed someone, a wrong someone, but no, he wouldn’t. He was too good to make that mistake.

I took his hand and held it, staring at it. I was afraid to see what was in his eyes. For the first time since the night Jean-Claude had died I stopped to wonder who had killed him. Somehow, I’d never thought about it.

“What have you done, Edward?”

I wasn’t asking about what he’d done when he snuck off that night, making himself sicker. I was talking about the night he’d saved my life again. Was he the reason I nearly died? Was he responsible for everything that had happened because of Jean-Claude’s death? My chest tightened and I felt sick.

Was Edward responsible for Jean-Claude’s death?

Had Edward killed Jean-Claude?

I let go of his hand and looked up at him, my eyes wide. His own eyes were wide, and I could see fear in them. Fear of me. I laughed, a quick and harsh sound, as I realized that Edward was afraid of me. I finally figured out what scared him.

He was afraid of me. Because he’d done something he knew I would have to kill him for. That was the only reason he was afraid of me, because he thought I’d kill him.

And I knew in that moment that there was a very good chance I already knew why he was scared of me, why he thought I would kill him.

My voice was soft as I said it again, soft and sad. “What have you done?”


	13. Chapter 13

As quickly as I’d been sad, I became angry. How could Edward do that? Risk me? I clenched my jaw at the thought. He had no right to risk me. For god’s sake, I was his _wife_! In name only, yes, but I had thought, had hoped, that maybe he did care. Even if it was only as a good friend.

I pushed him away so that I could stand up. Then, “You bastard.” My voice was low and vicious, and his face fell even more. “How could you?”

He stood up slowly and looked away from me, avoiding my eyes. “I only wanted you safe, Anita.”

“Safe?” I asked. “Safe? Killing him nearly killed me!”

“Killing him nearly killed me,” I repeated as a leaned back into the counter. I needed something to lean on and it would not be Edward. My eyes burned and I raised a hand to scrub the feeling away.

His hand stopped mine and he tilted my face up so that I was forced to look at him, and his eyes were pale and expressionless. “Anita.”

I breathed in deeply as he said my name. It sounded so sad, so full of despair. I wanted to hold him and tell him that it would be all right, everything would be fine. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He wasn’t the type of man to let someone comfort him and I was too angry and hurt to give him the comfort, even if I wanted to. All I could do was stare into his eyes as I fought back the tears.

“Don’t touch me.”

His hand dropped from my face in a heartbeat and he took two full steps back moments later. I shook my head. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to do anything, Edward.”

Anger was getting the better of me as I thought of how Jean-Claude must have felt when he died. If he’d felt half as betrayed as I did right now nothing short of taking what Edward held dearest away from him would come close to righting that wrong. And if I knew what he held dearest, I might very well take it away from him, I was that angry.

Any emotion that had been on his face melted away and was replaced by an icy blankness. “Do you want me to leave?”

I stood there for a moment, silent. Did I want him to leave? Truthfully, no. No I didn’t. But I knew that was not what I would tell him. Besides, I doubted anything I could do would ever truly hurt him. And thought hurt me, but I shook my head to stop the thought before it could go any farther.

“Leave,” I said, and my voice was cold and hard. So different from how I felt. “Just you, leave now. Becca stays with me. She’s my family… not yours.” I saw his body tense and somehow knew to go in for the kill, knew how to make him hurt.

“You don’t have any family, Edward.”

I looked up into his eyes and nearly cried out as I saw real pain in them. I reached out for him saying his name softly, but it was too late. He turned and left.

I sank back against the counter needing it to hold me up. I hated myself. In that moment I truly hated myself. I suppose it’s a side effect of being broken, the feeling of weakness. The need to cry. And I hated it. I could always control it so well, but now it was hard not to. But I would not cry. I wouldn’t.

Because if I cried it would be so close to admitting out loud that I loved him.

Nearly a week passed, and I heard nothing from Edward. Becca began asking questions and I had to lie to her. I said that Daddy went on a trip and would come home as soon as he could. She looked up at me with wide innocent eyes and I felt like a coward. I was lying to a seven-year-old because I was afraid of the truth. And the truth was I don’t think he was coming back. Ever.

Life became hectic very quickly but that was okay, at least now I still had something to show for it. The pard moved out, surprisingly, and Jason installed himself in the house as a babysitting bodyguard. Rumor had it that the Executioner’s children were easy targets. Not anymore. So when I worked Jason watched, and when I watched Jason had his butt kicked in every board game he and Becca could find.

Dolph showed up at the office one night saying that he had been found wandering around downtown with a mild case of amnesia and his eyes twinkled as he said it was quickly going away and he would be back at work in a few days. I smiled, hugged him, then kicked him out of my office so I could cry in private. Edward was alive and he was taking care of the loose ends he’d left in my life. All of the loose ends except how I felt about him.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, I shouldn’t have let my guard down, but I did. It was completely down when, six days after he’d left, I walked into my house calling out a sleepy hello to find Edward standing in my living room. I dropped my animating bag on the ground and stood there dumbly.

He was waiting for me, no surprise on his face, just a blank expression. Then it cracked right down the center and his voice was choked as he said, “Anita.”

I took a deep breath before speaking. “Does Becca know you’re here?”

It was apparently the wrong thing to say because the look of utter fear and panic that swept across his face made me take a hasty step forward. I knew Edward, he was never afraid. Well, sometimes, but this was not a good thing. Something was wrong… then it hit me.

“Where is Becca?” I didn’t think it was possible for one little sentence to be able to make all my fears known, but this one did it.

He raised a hand to my face and touched it gently. Even despite my anger at him that was still there, I leaned into it. He always did make me feel safe. He sighed slowly and then so quiet, I almost didn’t hear him, “Van Cleef has Becca. And Anna too.”

I jerked back like I’d been burned. “Van Cleef?”

He nodded and his eyes turned to pale chips of ice. “And we have to get them back.”

He had a plan. I could see it in his eyes. I knew he would bring the ten plagues of Egypt to rain on Van Cleef’s parade to save the girls.


	14. Chapter 14

Oh the irony. Van Cleef had holed up in a warehouse that had once been used for were porn. I didn’t exactly relish the idea of going back there, but for my daughter’s I’d go to hell and back. And it looked like Edward and I would the way he had suited us up and armed us.

We were, once again, in those nifty little outfits we’d worn we we’d gone up against Van Cleef last time, though this time neither of us had any intention of leaving his body until it was cold and stiff. I was half tempted to take his head and heart just to be sure. But no, that would be too much my style and I had no intention of getting caught doing what we were doing. Regardless of the fact he’d kidnapped my girls, our girls, what Edward and I were doing was very, very illegal.

“How many entrances are there?” Edward’s voice was soft and deadly over the headset, and I shook my head.

“I don’t know, I’ve only been here once.” My own voice was low, but it was just empty. I stood up. “Fuck this, he expects us so let’s just go in guns blazing.”

Edward grabbed my arm before I’d taken two steps and I turned to him. He pulled his mask off and I could see his eyes. I’d expected anger, or at least their usual icy emptiness. Instead I was greeted by a cool but undeniably fearful look that I hadn’t seen him wear often, though too much in recent weeks. He was truly afraid.

“Anita,” and his voice carried on the night air as well as the headset. “If you go in like that, he might kill you.”

I shrugged and unhooked my trusty little mini-Uzi from where it was slung over my shoulder and back.

He stopped me with a firm hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Anita.”

I very nearly stopped right there, some of my anger was still there. I turned dead eyes on him and said, “You never had me.” Technically not true, or else Anna wouldn’t be here to be held hostage, but it had the desired effect.

Hurt slid through his eyes a moment before they died and matched my own gaze. “Fine,” he said as he pulled his own mini-Uzi out to play.

I turned before I could say anything else, something I might regret—not that I regretted anything I’d said lately, of course not. Then I led the way to the warehouse’s door. I leaned into it carefully with my shoulder, gun in both hands and ready should the need arise. It opened easily, it hadn’t been closed all the way in the first place.

I nodded my head at Edward, and he raised his own gun to cover me as I stooped over and crept through the open door. I figured it would be best to stay low, fewer bullets I hoped. He followed and we carefully swept the open floor then headed back to the offices that had served as “persuasion” rooms back in the were porn heyday.

There were only six, so we split and each of us took one side. We didn’t split up, we just let the other open and check the room while we covered. Edward took the left-hand side and as I covered he flung each door open and we searched for any sign of Becca and Anna. No such luck.

The first room on the right side was empty, a thick layer of dust on everything. The second room was empty, but the dust had been disturbed. A large set of footprints was embedded in the dust accompanied by a second, smaller set. My breath caught in my throat as my lit on a small scrap of fabric on the far side.

Without waiting for Edward to cover me I rushed in and nearly stumbled in my haste. I knew that fabric, that blanket. It was Anna’s baby blanket, the same one I’d wrapped her in before I’d left for work earlier that night. Such a short time ago. I picked it up and my voice was hoarse and muffled as I whispered her name into the stillness of the room.

I turned to show Edward and I barely had time to notice that he wasn’t standing there where I’d left him. He was lying on the floor. Then out of nowhere a rifle butt smashed into the side of my face. Once, twice, and then everything was silent.


	15. Chapter 15

I didn’t open my eyes immediately, I was too intent on trying to focus out the immense pain in my head. It was only getting worse as the muffled sobbing I could hear grew louder.

“Mommy, wake up, Mommy, please!”

It was frantic and familiar.

All too quickly it hit me and I rolled over, cursing and fighting back the urge to throw up. My eyes opened as I put a hand to my head. It came away warm and wet. I cursed softly and looked up to see Becca sitting a few feet away from me holding Anna.

I reached out for her and she scuttled over to me, eyes wide and red. She looked too frightened to cry anymore tonight. I pulled her close as a faintly familiar laugh rang out. I turned, eyes up, and was met with an eerily blue gaze. Not Edward’s, but it reminded me of him. I wanted very badly to see his eyes. Not this monster’s eyes.

There was no mask this time, I could easily see Van Cleef as he was. Graying hair cropped close to his skull, his body slender yet muscular. From some distant part of my brain I noted that he wasn’t an unattractive man. I didn’t have time to think of anything else because my eyes lowered.

And my heart nearly stopped.

It was too late to hide Becca’s eyes from the sight, but I did it anyway. I wanted to hide mine, but I didn’t. I just looked at the sight that greeted me.

His face was turned towards me, eyes closed. He looked peaceful and I hoped that maybe he’d find peace now, peace that he’d never found when he was alive. There was blood on one side of his face, matted into his hair, and I knew that Van Cleef had shot him in the head. Much like what I wanted to do to Van Cleef right now. No, not as bad as what I wanted to do.

I’d never had much of a stomach for torture but tonight I was all for it. And the more screaming, the better the music.

I raised my eyes to Van Cleef’s, and he was smiling merrily, eyes twinkling. I had no voice to speak, but I didn’t need to.

“You have, Ms. Blake, or would that be Mrs. Forrester?” His words were light. He was mocking me. “Yes, I like the sound of that better. The ex-Mrs. Forrester.”

My eyes went cold and hard and I knew my face was slowly going blank.

He stared back at me, face never changing but his eyes seemed to glow with his enjoyment of my pain and subsequent lack of feeling.

“As I was saying. You have 15 seconds to remove yourself and your daughters from this warehouse from the time I pull the pin.” He held out his hand and to my horror in it was a grenade. “If you are not out at such time,” and he paused to pull the pin, “then you and your lovely daughters will join him.”

He looked down at Edward’s still body and my gaze followed his. There was a light click as the pin hit the floor and before it had stopped moving I’d pulled Becca to her feet and shoved her at the door. She still had Anna, so I stayed for just a moment longer.

“I swear to God, I will kill you if it takes my whole life.” My voice was harsh with my anger and anguish.

Van Cleef smiled. “Unless you wish to join your husband in Hell, I would leave if I were you.”

I didn’t pause to wonder at why he was letting us go. I just went.

I raced out and looked around for Becca. She was maybe a hundred yards ahead of me. I moved my legs faster to catch up with her, and when the blast took us from behind, I threw myself on her, cradling her and Anna to me as I rolled us into the ground and then shielded them with my body.

When the shock waves passed, I rolled off of them, pulling them both close, extremely unwilling to let either of them out of my sight. I looked back at the building and cried out as I saw how it was completely caved in, the rubble burning brightly. Like a bonfire, I thought. Maybe I should run home and get some marshmallows.

We didn’t move. Not even when the sirens cut through the sound of the fire. Becca clung to me and Anna lay there quiet in my arms, like she knew something very bad had just happened. We were silent and still as the fire trucks pulled up and began to hose the warehouse down.

And I didn’t even move when a large body stepped in front of me. It knelt down and I could see it was Dolph, looking impeccable as always in his suit, hair carefully combed. Every inch the perfect policeman.

“Why are you always in the middle of things, Anita?” His voice was gentle, and he reached out to take Becca and Anna from me.

I shook my head and pulled them closer.

“Anita, the paramedics need to see them.” The voice of reason. Joy in the morning.

But that I could understand. I nodded and he took Becca’s hand. She went willingly and I followed slowly with Anna. Once they were in the capable hands of the paramedics Dolph took me to one. A paramedic of my very own. For some reason the thought made me laugh and it sounded a bit hysterical to me.

Dolph pushed the paramedic away and stood in front of me, forcing me to look at him. “What happened, Anita? Why are dressed straight out of _Soldier of Fortune_?”

I blinked as tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t quite catch them. “He took my babies. He took them and we came to get them and then he... he…”

Dolph’s face went carefully neutral and then I saw the hurt in his eyes. That was enough to let me say it.

“He’s dead, Dolph. He killed him and now Edward’s dead.”

He sighed and I looked down willing myself not to cry.

“He’s dead,” I murmured softly. “He’s dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. Yeah, I'm kind of sorry. I just keep killing our babies in this one, don't I?


	16. Chapter 16

There was no funeral, no gathering of close friends. I opted just to have a headstone set in the cemetery. It was a plot Edward had already purchased. Trust him to think of everything. And he really did think of everything, because that wasn’t in his will. It was in a nice sealed envelope that was delivered to me within 24 hours of his confirmed death.

There was a note telling me to go ahead and use this since he knew that I wouldn’t be able to touch his Will until the investigation was wrapped up. And he was right.

Homicide launched an investigation into the warehouse fire. My testimony that it had been a bomb and that my husband had been inside helped with that. But I think it had more to do with the fact I said I’d seen Edward’s killer.

They showed me mug shots, lineups, the works. But Van Cleef was never in them, so I’d leave each time more certain than before that eventually I’d have to hunt him down and kill him. I didn’t think anyone would miss him.

The investigation took a long time. Over two months. In fact, when it was finally wrapped up and Edward’s Will was released, it was the day of what would have been our one-year anniversary. The irony—oh, it nearly made me laugh. He’d left me everything. Everything.

Like he’d known he’d die first. I think maybe he did, because the will had only been written a few days before he died. He’d gone to Catherine to do it. Edward had been a very rich man when he died. I assumed it was all from his ‘bounty hunting’ that earned him his wealth. Imagine my surprise when I learned he’d played the stock market and played it very well at that.

According to all of the reports and statements, I managed to figure out that Edward hadn’t done very many jobs in the last five years. Maybe three or four during the entire time. Way down from my best guess of a dozen or so each year before that.

So that made me a very rich widow. The word was strange as I thought it, and I said it softly, experimentally. This certainly wasn’t something I’d expected to be. Once more the irony made me half-giddy. Or maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t allowed myself to cry since the night he’d died.

A burst of laughter exploded from my lips, hysterical laughter that turned into a deep, wrenching sob.

I swallowed against it, fighting for control. I’d done so well. For the past few months I’d managed to keep command over my emotions, but I felt the control slipping away as another sob choked up my throat.

I stood abruptly, the gun sliding from my lap, banging into the table and tipping over my coffee mug. I had to go… had to escape… had to get away from the dark despair that suddenly blinded me, threatened to paralyze me… threatened to consume me.

Edward. His name reverberated in my brain, bringing with it a vision of his face. His face… I choked back another sob as I pictured him; his pale blue eyes blank and cold, his face blank, as always. Then another picture came to mind. Edward smiling. That funny little grin, those bright blue eyes, the golden hair that curled at the ends.

I stumbled to the door that led out onto the porch. Air. I needed air. God… I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe? What was wrong with me?

But I knew. Grief. I’d been running away from it since he died, but now it had found me. It ripped at me, tore at my insides and I gripped my head with my hands as incoherent moans escaped me.

I stepped outside into the cool air. “Edward.” His name began as a wail, then swelled inside me until I was saying it over and over again, sobs shaking me as the night wind blew the sound of his name away.

I cried his name until it was nothing more than a hoarse whisper of anguish. If only I’d made it there sooner. If only I hadn’t given up my weapons. If only I hadn’t loved him so much… But all the if-only’s in the world didn’t matter now. Edward was gone and nothing would ever bring him back again.

I crumbled to the ground, my head bowed to my knees as my tears blinded me. Never again would I hold him in my arms, smell him on my clothes, in my hair. I’d only had one precious night with him, and that would have to be enough to last me a lifetime.

Grief could kill a person. I knew I had to be dying. The pain in my heart was too great to bear, the emptiness in my soul was too… abysmal to survive.

It was said that people were never given more burden than they could handle… but somewhere a mistake had been made. There had been too much loss in my life. I’d grieved my mother years ago. Friends as I grew older. Jean-Claude less than three months ago.

But this… this loss of my love was too much to bear. I wasn’t strong enough for this. How was I supposed to continue existing without Edward? My Edward?

I had no idea how long I remained outside on the porch. I cried until there were no more tears, cursed until there were no more words, and finally there was nothing left inside except a chilling bleakness, an excruciating emptiness.

Wearily, not knowing what to do, how to go on, I stumbled back inside. My eyes felt gritty and my throat burned, but these were only minor discomforts compared to the pain in my heart. But it was a loss I’d be carrying for a very long time. As I made my way back into the house, I heard the sounds of muffled crying coming from Becca’s room.

Wiping my eyes on my sleeve I walked slowly to her room. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t let myself feel it. It wasn’t fair for me to indulge my pain while Becca was hurting. She was so innocent. Had been. Not so innocent anymore.

It wasn’t fair. But nothing in life ever was. We all lose our innocence eventually. But sometimes it happens too early.

I knew how Becca felt, and I held her, stroking her hair as she cried. There was nothing I could say to her anymore, nothing I hadn’t said a hundred times already. So I just held her as she cried. She slipped into sleep after a little while, but her cheeks were damp, and her forehead furrowed.

Even while she slept, she was still trying to understand. I didn’t understand it either, at least not much more than she did. All I knew is that her tears were because she wasn’t innocent anymore.

And for that, I’d spend the rest of my life searching for Van Cleef.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have some recovered/saved Anita Blake fics (including plenty of A/E, but not only that) stuck on a google drive, [please click here](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1KQMp7b06-cmAndB_tUv2YS4cPQlsNaMk?usp=sharing) to go check it out and read some more excellent fic.


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